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STUDIES 

IN  THE  HISTORY  OF 
RELIGIONS 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  . BOSTON  • CHICAGO 
DALLAS  • SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  & CO.,  Limited 

LONDON  • BOMBAY  • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


STUDIES 

IN  THE  HISTORY  OF 
RELIGIONS 


PRESENTED  TO 

CRAWFORD  HOWELL  TOY 

BY  PUPILS  COLLEAGUES 
AND  FRIENDS 


EDITED  BY 

DAVID  GORDON  LYON 
GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE 


Neto  gork 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1912 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1912, 

By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.  Published  November,  1912. 


NorfoooB  18kss 

J.  S.  Cushing  Co.  — Berwick  & Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


EDITORIAL  NOTE 


The  Harvard  Club  for  the  Study  of  the  History  of 
Religions,  which  was  founded  by  Professor  Toy  in  the  year 
1891,  intended  to  present  to  him  a volume  of  essays  on  his 
seventy-fifth  birthday,  March  23,  1911.  They  meant 
thereby  to  express  their  affection  for  him  as  a man,  and 
their  appreciation  of  him  as  a leader  in  the  field  of  study  to 
which  the  Club  is  devoted.  By  invitation  several  other 
friends  of  Professor  Toy  not  members  of  the  Club  became 
contributors  to  the  work.  Another  friend,  the  Honorable 
Jacob  Henry  Schiff,  assumed,  with  characteristic  generosity, 
the  expense  of  the  publication. 

The  material  of  the  contributions  is  necessarily  technical, 
but  the  several  writers  have  had  a wider  circle  of  readers  in 
mind,  and  have  accordingly  tried  to  present  their  ideas  in 
untechnical  language. 

Unforeseen  difficulties  have  delayed  the  appearance  of  the 
volume.  This  delay  is  particularly  regrettable  in  regard  to 
two  or  three  of  the  studies,  but  the  dates  appended  in  such 
cases  will  show  when  the  articles  were  written. 

In  now  presenting  the  work  to  our  friend,  and  in  offering 
it  to  the  public,  the  undersigned,  as  spokesmen  for  all  those 
who  have  had  part  in  its  preparation,  congratulate  Professor 
Toy  on  his  happy  achievements  in  his  favorite  field  of 
study,  and  sincerely  hope  that  many  years  of  fruitfulness 
still  lie  before  him. 

DAVID  GORDON  LYON, 
GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE. 


CONTENTS 


viii 

The  Theological  School  at  Nisibis  . 

George  Foot  Moore,  Harvard  University. 

The  Translations  made  from  the  Original  Aramaic  Gos- 
pels   

Charles  Cutler  Torrey,  Yale  University. 

Oriental  Celts  in  Spain 

Clifford  Herschel  Moore,  Harvard  University. 

The  Consecrated  Women  of  the  Hammurabi  Code 
David  Gordon  Lyon,  Harvard  University. 

Figurines  of  Syro-Hittite  Art 

Richard  James  Horatio  Gottheil,  Columbia  University. 

Bibliography  

Ha;rry  Wolf  son,  New  York. 


PAGES 

255-267 

269-317 

319-340 

341-360 

361-365 

367-373 


STUDIES 

IN  THE  HISTORY  OF 
RELIGIONS 


ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES 
THE  FIRST 


George  Lyman  Kittredge 
Harvard  University 

Common  fame  makes  James  I.  a sinister  figure  in  the  his- 
tory of  English  witchcraft.  The  delusion,  we  are  told,  was 
dying  out  in  the  later  years  of  Elizabeth,  but  James  fanned 
the  embers  into  a devouring  flame.  His  coming  was  the 
signal  for  a violent  and  long-continued  outburst  of  witch- 
hunting,  for  which  he  was  personally  responsible.  He  pro- 
cured the  repeal  of  the  comparatively  mild  Elizabethan  law 
and  the  enactment  of  a very  cruel  statute.  He  encouraged 
and  patronized  witchfinders,  and  was  always  eager  for  fresh 
victims.  His  reign  is  a dark  and  bloody  period  in  the  annals 
of  this  frightful  superstition. 

Many  authorities  might  be  adduced  in  support  of  these 
views,  but  I must  rest  content  with  quoting  three  writers 
who  have  had  some  influence  in  propagating  them,  — Mrs. 
Lynn  Linton,  Mr.  Robert  Steele,  and  Mr.  G.  M.  Trevelyan.1 

In  1861  Mrs.  E.  Lynn  Linton  published  a volume  of  Witch 
Stories,  which  was  reissued  in  1883  and  has  met  with  de- 
served favor.  Mrs.  Linton  has  no  mercy  on  James  I.  His 
“name  stands  accursed  for  vice  and  cruel  cowardice  and  the 

1 For  other  pronouncements  of  a more  or  less  similar  nature,  see  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
Introduction  to  Potts’s  Discoverie,  Somers  Tracts,  2d  edition,  1810,  3.  95;  Mrs. 
Lucy  Aitkin,  Memoirs  of  the  Court  of  King  James  the  First,  1822,  2.  166-167 ; 
Retrospective  Review,  1822,  6.  90 ; Scott,  Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft, 
1830,  pp.  227,  246-247 ; Crossley,  Introduction  to  Potts,  Chetham  Society,  1845, 
pp.  xix.,  xiv. ; Thomas  Wright,  Narratives  of  Sorcery  and  Magic,  1851,  1.  284, 
2.  143-144 ; Charles  Hardwick,  History  of  Preston,  1857,  p.  146 ; P.  Q.  Karkeek, 
Transactions  of  the  Devonshire  Association,  1874,  G.  786 ; F.  A.  Inderwick,  Side- 
Lights  on  the  Stuarts,  2d  ed.,  1891,  pp.  154-155 ; Horley,  History  of  Sefton,  1893, 
p.  115,  note  1;  H.  N.  Doughty,  Blackwood’s  Magazine,  March,  1898,  163,  388; 
W.  R.  Roper,  Materials  for  the  History  of  Lancaster,  Part  i,  Chetham  Society,  1907, 
pp.  26-27. 


1 


2 ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 

utmost  selfishness  of  fear.”  2 “Treacherous,  cruel,  narrow- 
minded, and  cowardly,”  she  calls  him,  “beyond  anything 
that  has  ever  disgraced  the  English  throne  before  or  since.”  3 
He  had  a “mania  against  witches,”  4 a “lust  for  witch 
blood.”  5 “There  was  no  holding  in  of  this  furious  madness 
after  James  I.  had  got  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  and  was  riding 
a race  neck  and  neck  with  the  Devil.”  6 These  are  hard 
words  ; yet  Mrs  Linton  knows  that  the  beliefs  which  she  has 
in  mind  were  “rampant  in  England  when  good  Queen  Bess 
ruled  the  land,”  7 and  her  own  book  contains  facts  enough 
to  give  us  pause. 

Let  us  take  a leap  of  thirty-odd  years  and  read  what  Mr. 
Robert  Steele  has  to  tell  us  in  his  article  on  witchcraft  in 
the  fourth  volume  of  a well-reputed  work  of  collaboration, 
Social  England,  edited  by  Mr.  H.  D.  Traill : 

With  the  accession  of  Janies  a change  came  over  the  feelings  of  those 
in  power.  During  the  later  years  of  Elizabeth  tract  after  tract  appeared, 
calling  for  severe  punishment  upon  witches,  but  with  no  result : the  Eng- 
lish trials,  up  to  now,  had  been  characterised  rather  by  folly  than  ferocity, 
the  new  rule  was  marked  by  ferocious  folly.  For  forty  years  Scotland  had 
been  engaged  in  witch-hunting,  with  the  result  that  8000  human  beings 
are  believed  to  have  been  burnt  between  1560  and  1600 ; and  for  the  last 
ten  years  of  the  century  the  king  had  been  at  the  head  of  the  hunt.  . . . 
In  the  first  Parliament  of  James  the  more  merciful  Act  of  Elizabeth  was 
repealed ; a new  and  exhaustive  one  was  enacted.  . . . Under  this  Act 
70,000  persons  were  executed  up  to  1680. 8 

I stand  aghast  at  these  figures.  There  is  no  sense  or 
reason  in  them.  No  records  have  been  published  or  exam- 
ined which  would  justify  the  assertion  that  a seventieth  part 
of  this  monstrous  number  met  their  death  in  the  period 
named.  As  for  the  time  from  the  passage  of  the  act  of  1604 
till  the  death  of  James  in  1625,  Mr.  Steele  would  find  it  hard 
to  make  out  an  average  of  more  than  two  or  three  executions  a 
year.  I half  suspect  that  he  has  got  hold  of  some  statistics 
of  mortality  from  the  plague. 

Mr.  Trevelyan  is  vaguer,  but  no  less  emphatic:  “The 
skeptical  Elizabeth,  perhaps  with  some  pity  for  her  sex,  had 
refused  to  yield  when  the  pamphlet  press  called  on  the  Gov- 

2 Ed.  1861,  p.  20.  3 Pp.  250-260.  4 P.  259.  6 P.261.  5 P.  195. 

7 P.  195.  8 4.  85-86. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


3 


ernment  to  enact  fiercer  laws  ‘not  suffering  a witch  to  live.’ 
The  outburst  came  with  the  accession  of  a Scottish  King, 
who,  though  he  rejected  the  best  part  of  the  spirit  of  Knox, 
was  crazed  beyond  his  English  subjects  with  the  witch- 
mania  of  Scotland  and  the  continent.  His  first  Parliament 
enacted  new  death-laws ; at  once  the  Judges  and  magistrates, 
the  constables  and  the  mob,  began  to  hunt  up  the  oldest  and 
ugliest  spinster  who  lived  with  her  geese  in  the  hut  on  the 
common,  or  tottered  about  the  village  street  mumbling  the 
inaudible  soliloquies  of  second  childhood.”  9 In  this  witch- 
hunt, Mr.  Trevelyan  tells  us,  “learning,  headed  by  the  pedant 
King,  was  master  of  the  hounds.”  10 

So  much  for  the  current  opinion.11  Let  us  try  to  dis- 
cover to  what  extent  it  is  justified  by  the  facts.  And  first 
we  must  consider  two  things  that  have  created  an  enormous 
prejudice  against  King  James,  — his  Scottish  record  and  his 
authorship  of  the  Dsemonologie. 

The  history  of  witchcraft  in  Scotland  is  a difficult  subject, 
and  it  is  particularly  hard  to  determine  just  what  degree  of 
responsibility  attaches  to  King  James.  To  sift  the  matter 
thoroughly  would  require  much  time  and  space.  Still,  a 
few  facts  are  patent.  (1)  James  did  not  make  the  Scottish 
law  of  witchcraft.  The  statute  was  enacted  in  1563,  before 
he  was  born.  (2)  He  did  not  teach  the  Scottish  nation  the 
witch  creed.  That  creed  was  the  heritage  of  the  human 
race,  and  was  nowhere  less  questioned  by  all  classes  and  all 
professions  than  in  Scotland,  where,  indeed,  it  survived  in 
full  vigor  for  more  than  a century  after  James  was  dead. 
(3)  The  worst  period  of  Scottish  prosecution  does  not  fall  in 
his  reign.  The  three  great  prosecutions  were  in  1590-1597, 
in  1640-1650,  and  in  1660-1663.  The  second  was  worse 
than  the  first,  and  the  third  (which  began  with  the  Restora- 
tion) was  the  worst  of  all.  (4)  James  did  not  initiate  the 
prosecutions  of  1590. 12 

9 England  under  the  Stuarts  [1904],  p.  32.  10  P.  33. 

11  A brief  but  powerful  vindication  of  King  James  was  inserted  by  William 
Gifford  in  his  edition  of  Ford  (1.  clxxi.,  Dyce’s  revision,  1869,  3.  276;  cf.  Quar- 
terly Review,  41.  80-82),  but  it  has  attracted  little  attention.  See  also  Disraeli’s 

Character  of  James  the  First  (Miscellanies  of  Literature,  N.Y.,  1841,  3.  355-360). 

12  See  particularly  Mr.  F.  Legge’s  paper  on  Witchcraft  in  Scotland,  in  The  Scottish 
Review  for  October,  1891  (18.  257-288). 


4 ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 

Upon  this  last  point  we  must  dwell  for  a moment.  In 
1583,  when  James  was  a boy  of  seventeen,  the  Scottish  clergy 
called  for  a sharper  enforcement  of  the  law.  In  1590  began 
the  trials  of  John  Fian  and  his  associates,  with  which  the 
name  of  the  king  is  indissolubly  connected.  It  seems  quite 
clear  that  these  trials  were  not  James’s  own  idea.  His  in- 
tellectual curiosity  — well  known  to  be  one  of  his  most 
salient  characteristics  — led  him  to  attend  the  examinations. 
But  he  was  not  naturally  credulous  in  such  matters  (as  we 
shall  see  later),  he  found  the  confessions  beyond  belief,  and 
he  pronounced  the  witches  “extreame  lyars.”  When,  how- 
ever, Agnes  Sampson,  to  convince  him,  repeated  in  his  pri- 
vate ear  a conversation  that  he  had  held  with  the  queen  on 
the  marriage-night,  he  “acknowledged  her  words  to  bee  most 
true,  and  therefore  gaue  the  more  credit  ” to  their  stories.13 
It  makes  little  difference  what  we  think  of  this  feat  of  Agnes 
Sampson’s  : the  value  of  the  anecdote  lies  in  the  light  it 
throws  on  the  king’s  skepticism.  Agnes  also  implicated  the 
Earl  of  Bothwell  in  a charge  of  witchcraft  against  the  king’s 
life.  James’s  dislike  and  fear  of  Bothwell  are  notorious ; 
they  appear  in  a striking  passage  of  the  Basilikon  Doron.14 
He  looked  on  Bothwell  as  his  evil  genius  and  was  ever  ready 
to  listen  to  anything  to  his  discredit.  Chancellor  Maitland, 
who  was  Bothwell's  enemy,  had  the  king’s  confidence.15 
Numerous  executions  followed,  and  the  great  prosecution  of 
1590-1597  was  now  under  way.  It  had  started,  however, 
not  with  James,  but,  as  usual,  among  obscure  persons.  The 
king  had  simply  become  involved  in  the  affair.  No  doubt  he 
countenanced  the  general  witch-hunt  that  followed;  but 
he  cannot  be  said  to  have  encouraged  it,  for  no  encourage- 
ment was  needed.  The  clergy  were  eager,  and  the  people 
lived  in  constant  terror  of  witches.  If  ever  there  was  a 
spontaneous  popular  panic,  this  was  such  an  outbreak. 
Janies  and  his  Council  had  only  to  let  the  forces  work.  And, 
indeed,  it  seems  pretty  certain  that  they  had  no  power  to 
stem  the  current.  Mr.  Andrew  Lang,  who  censures  the  king, 

13  Newes  from  Scotland,  1591,  sig.  B 2 (Roxburghe  Club  reprint). 

14  1599,  Roxburghe  Club  reprint,  p.  97. 

16  Spottiswoode,  History  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  Bannatyne  Club,  2.  412; 
Pitcairn,  Criminal  Trials,  1.  230,  240,  note;  Legge,  Scottish  Review,  18.  262. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


5 


says  in  plain  terms  that  he  “could  not  have  controlled  the 
preachers.”  16  Add  to  this  the  testimony  of  Pitcairn,  a 
hostile  witness,  that  the  period  from  1591  to  1596  was  dis- 
tinguished by  “open  defiance  of  the  King  and  Parliament, 
and  by  the  frequent  and  daring  conspiracies  enterprised 
against  the  Royal  person.”  17  Altogether,  it  does  not  ap- 
pear that  James  is  to  blame  for  the  events  of  1590-1597,  or 
that  the  prosecution  proves  him  either  exceptionally  credu- 
lous or  exceptionally  devoted  to  witch-hunting.  If  a whole 
nation  believes  in  witchcraft,  outbreaks  of  prosecution  (like 
other  outbreaks)  are  likely  to  happen  whenever  there  are 
troublous  times.  This  has  been  seen  over  and  over  again, 
— in  the  tumult  of  the  English  Civil  War,  for  instance,  and 
just  after  the  Revolution,  and  in  our  own  Salem  at  a critical 
moment  in  New  England  history.18  James  was  not  riding 
the  storm  like  Odin.  He  was  only  a mortal  man,  swept  off 
his  feet  by  the  tide. 

Whether  these  considerations  are  just  or  not,  one  thing  is 
certain  — by  1597  James  was  convinced  that  matters  had 
gone  too  far.  Indictments  were  piling  upon  indictments, 
there  was  no  telling  the  innocent  from  the  guilty,  and  no 
end  was  in  sight.  Commissions  of  justiciary  for  witchcraft 
were  being  held  throughout  Scotland,  and  the  king,  by  a 
stroke  of  the  pen,  revoked  them  all.19  It  is  noteworthy 
that  the  proximate  cause  of  his  action  was  the  discovery 
that  many  denunciations  were  fraudulent.  Compare  James’s 
incredulity  at  the  outset,  and  the  skill  which  he  showed  later 
in  life  (as  we  shall  see  presently)  in  detecting  similar  impos- 
tures. From  1597  to  James’s  accession  to  the  English  throne 
in  1603,  there  were  abundant  witch-trials  in  Scotland,  but 
the  annual  number  of  executions  was  much  smaller,  and 
there  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  king  pressed  for  more. 
When  he  succeeded  to  the  English  crown,  the  intensity  of  the 
Scottish  witch-quest  had  ceased,  by  his  own  act,  and  that 
period  was  associated  in  his  mind  with  a time  of  anarchy. 
England  looked  to  him  like  a haven  of  rest.  He  was  certainly 

16  History  of  Scotland,  2.  353.  17  Criminal  Trials,  1.  357. 

18  See  Kittredge,  Notes  on  Witchcraft,  1907,  pp.  64-65. 

19  Privy  Council  Register,  5.  409-410;  Spottiswoode,  3.  66-67;  Legge,  p.  264; 
Lang,  History  of  Scotland,  2.  433. 


6 ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


thinking  of  other  matters  than  witches  when  he  came  into 
the  promised  land. 

So  much  for  the  first  of  the  two  things  that  have  led  men  to 
approach  James’s  English  witch  record  with  a prejudiced 
opinion.  Let  us  pass  to  the  second,  — his  authorship  of 
the  Dsemonologie. 

The  importance  of  King  James’s  Dsemonologie  has  been 
greatly  exaggerated,  both  as  to  its  bearing  on  his  supposed 
career  as  a prosecutor  and  as  to  its  effect  on  English  senti- 
ment in  his  time.  The  book  is  a confession  of  faith,  not  an 
autobiography.  It  is  proof  of  what  James  thought , not  of 
what  he  did.  The  publication  of  the  Dsemonologie  did  not 
cause  the  death  of  any  Scottish  witches,  either  directly  or 
indirectly.  Nor  did  it  convert  a single  Scottish  skeptic, 
for  there  were  none  to  convert.  The  book  did  not  appear 
until  1597,  — the  very  year  in  which  James,  by  a stroke  of 
the  pen,  checked  the  great  prosecution  that  had  been  going 
since  1590.  As  to  England,  the  case  against  the  Dsemonol- 
ogie is  pitifully  weak.  The  treatise,  though  well-constructed 
and  compendious,  is  not  original.  It  adduces  neither  new 
facts  nor  new  arguments.  Mr.  Gardiner  is  perfectly  right 
when  he  says  that  James  “had  only  echoed  opinions  which 
were  accepted  freely  by  the  multitude,  and  were  tacitly 
admitted  without  inquiry  by  the  first  intellects  of  the  day.”  20 
Certainly  there  is  no  reason  to  think  that  the  Dsemonologie 
had  any  appreciable  effect  on  English  sentiment. 

I am  well  aware  that  King  James’s  Dsemonologie  was  re- 
issued in  London  in  1603.  But  this  was  a mere  bookselling 
speculation,21  like  the  Latin  translation  by  Germberg  that 
appeared  at  Hanover  in  1604. 22  There  is  no  parade  about 
the  volume,  no  hint  that  it  was  published  at  the  king’s  in- 
stance. Contrast  the  circumstances  attending  the  publica- 

20  History  of  England,  1603-1642,  7.  322-323  (1899). 

21  John  Hawarde  (born  about  1571)  makes  a curious  note  in  his  manuscript, 
Les  Reportes  del  Cases  in  Camera  Stellata  (ed.  Baildon,  pp.  179-180) : “Nothinge 
now  was  talked  of  but  the  relligion,  vertue,  wisedome,  learninge,  Justice,  & manye 
other  most  noble  & woorthye  prayses  of  K.  James,  . . . his  bookes  new  printed, 
( BaziAiyoi'  Sotuv,  Freen  monarchies,  Monologie,  Expositions  upon  the  Reuelacions 
& the  Kings,  the  Lepanto).” 

22  There  are  two  London  editions  of  1603.  See  the  details  in  Ferguson,  Publi- 
cations of  the  Edinburgh  Bibliographical  Society,  3.  51. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


7 


tion  of  the  Basilikon  Doron  in  the  same  year.  This  had  been 
privately  printed  in  1599.  When  it  came  before  the  public 
in  1603,  there  was  a long,  defensive  preface,  entirely  new, 
in  which  the  king  exerted  himself  to  stand  well  with  his  Eng- 
lish subjects.23  James,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  had 
other  things  than  witchcraft  to  occupy  his  thoughts  when 
he  mounted  the  English  throne.  If  it  can  be  shown  that  he 
immediately  engaged  in  a campaign  for  new  witch-laws  or 
for  more  vigorous  prosecution,  then  we  may  regard  the 
Dsemonologie  of  1603  as  a campaign  document.  But  first 
one  must  show  that  he  did  engage  in  any  such  campaign ; 
otherwise  the  question  is  begged.  And,  as  we  shall  soon 
discover,  he  did  nothing  of  the  kind. 

Clearly,  then,  we  must  study  the  witch  law  and  the  witch- 
trials  of  James’s  English  reign  on  the  basis,  not  of  prejudice, 
but  of  evidence.  And  first  we  may  consider  the  Statute 
of  1604. 

The  current  ideas  about  the  English  laws  against  witchcraft 
are  very  inaccurate.  For  these  misapprehensions  Thomas 
Wright  is  in  large  part  responsible.  His  learned  and  inter- 
esting Narratives  of  Sorcery  and  Magic,  which  has  enjoyed 
a deserved  popularity  for  more  than  fifty  years,  is  surpris- 
ingly loose  in  its  statements  about  legal  history. 

“The  first  act  in  the  statute-book  against  witchcraft,” 
says  Wright,  “was  passed  in  the  thirty-third  year  of  Henry 
VIII.,  a.d.  1541,  whereby  this  supposed  crime  was  made 
felony  without  benefit  of  clergy.”  24  So  far  he  is  quite  cor- 
rect, except  for  the  year  of  our  Lord,  which  should  be  1542. 
“In  1547,”  he  adds,  “when  the  power  was  entirely  in  the 
hands  of  the  religious  reformers  under  Edward  VI.,  his 
father’s  law  against  witchcraft  was  repealed.”  This  asser- 
tion, though  technically  indisputable,  is  rather  misleading. 
The  act  to  which  Wright  refers  (1  Edward  VI.,  c.  12)  does 

23  See  the  Roxburghe  Club  reprint  of  the  1599  edition.  On  the  attention  which 
the  Basilikon  Doron  attracted,  see  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Venetian,  1603-1607, 
pp.  10,  65. 

24  Narratives  of  Sorcery  and  Magic,  1851,  1.  279.  See  also  the  authors  cited 
above  (p.  1,  note  1).  The  account  of  the  laws  given  by  Mr.  James  Williams 
in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica  (9th  ed.,  24.  620-621)  is  above  the  average,  but  not 
free  from  errors.  There  are  serious  mistakes  in  Mr.  Robert  Steele’s  summary  in 
Traill’s  Social  England,  3.  326. 


8 ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


not  once  mention  sorcery,  magic,  or  witchcraft.  The  third 
section  wipes  out  of  the  statute-book  “all  offences  made 
felony  by  any  act  or  acts  of  Parliament,  statute  or  statutes, 
made  sithence  the  xxiiith  day  of  April  in  the  first  year  of  the 
reign  of  the  said  late  King  Henry  theight,  not  being  felony 
before.”  Among  these  offences  was  witchcraft. 

Wright’s  next  statement  is  highly  objectionable.  It 
amounts  to  a serious,  though  inadvertent,  suppressio  veri. 
“Under  Elizabeth,”  he  avers,  “in  1562  [this  should  be  1563], 
a new  act  was  passed  against  witchcraft,  punishing  the  first 
conviction  only  with  exposure  in  the  pillory.”  25  Now  the 
truth  is  that  Elizabeth’s  law  was  much  severer  than  one 
would  infer  from  these  words.  It  fixes  the  death  penalty 
(1)  for  all  who  “use,  practise,  or  exercise  invocations  or  con- 
jurations of  evil  and  wicked  spirits  to  or  for  any  intent  or 
purpose,”  quite  irrespective  of  the  result  of  such  invocations 
or  conjurations,  and  (2)  for  all  who  practise  witchcraft  that 
causes  a person’s  death.  Under  the  former  provision  — to 
take  a good  example — -Edmund  Hartlay  lost  his  life  in 
Lancashire  in  1597.  He  was  a professed  conjurer,  and  had 
been  employed  to  relieve  the  children  of  Air.  Nicholas  Starkie, 
who  were  thought  to  be  possessed  with  devils.  Hartlay 
caught  the  hysterical  affection  himself  and  was  tormented 
in  like  manner.  “The  next  day,  beinge  recouered,  he  went 
into  a little  wood,  not  farr  from  the  house,  where  he  maide  a 
circle  about  a yarde  and  halfe  wyde,  deuiding  it  into  4.  partes, 
making  a crosse  at  every  diuision  : and  when  he  had  finished 
his  worke,  he  came  to  M.  Starchie  and  desiered  him  to  go  and 
tread  out  the  circle,  saying,  I may  not  treade  it  out  my  selfe, 
and  further,  I will  meete  with  them  that  went  about  my 
death,”  26  — that  is,  in  effect,  I wish  to  raise  the  devils  that 
tried  to  kill  me  yesterday.  There  were  other  charges  against 
Hartlay,  but  none  of  a capital  nature.  “The  making  of  his 
circle  was  chefly  his  ouerthrowe.”  27  He  denied  the  fact,  but, 
the  rope  breaking,  confessed  it  before  he  died.28 

25  Narratives,  1.  279. 

26  John  Darrel,  A True  Narration,  etc.,  1600,  p.  1. 

27  Darrel,  p.  7. 

28  Another  case  occurred  in  1580.  William  Randoll  was  hanged  for  conjuring 
to  discover  hidden  treasure  and  stolen  goods.  Four  others  were  tried  for  aiding 
and  abetting,  and  three  of  them  were  sentenced  to  death,  but  reprieved.  The  trial 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


9 


Furthermore,  the  Elizabethan  statute  provided  that 
“witchcraft,  enchantment,  charm,  or  sorcery”  which  caused 
bodily  injury  to  human  beings  or  damage  to  goods  or  chattels 
should  be  punished  with  a year’s  imprisonment  (with  quar- 
terly exposure  in  the  pillory)  for  the  first  offence,  and  with 
death  for  the  second  offence.  And  finally,  the  statute  provided 
imprisonment  and  the  pillory,  with  life  imprisonment  for  the 
second  offence,  for  all  who  should  “take  upon”  themselves 
to  reveal  the  whereabouts  of  hidden  treasure  or  of  lost  or 
stolen  goods,  or  should  practise  witchcraft  with  intent  to 
provoke  unlawful  love  or  to  “hurt  or  destroy  any  person  in 
his  or  her  body,  member,  or  goods.”  It  must  now  be  mani- 
fest how  unduly  Wright  extenuates  the  grimness  of  Eliza- 
beth’s law. 

Thus  we  reach  the  reign  of  James  I.  In  his  second  year 
was  passed  the  statute  of  1604,  which  remained  in  force  until 
1736.  The  relation  of  this  act  to  the  statute  of  Elizabeth, 
which  it  repealed,  becomes  a matter  of  great  importance  to 
determine.  Here  Wright  leaves  us  in  the  lurch.  James, 
he  tells  us,  “passed  a new  and  severe  law  against  witchcraft,29 
in  which  it  now  became  almost  a crime  to  disbelieve.”  30  We 
are  led  to  infer  that,  whereas  Elizabeth’s  law  was  mild  and 
hardly  objectionable,  James’s  statute  was  both  novel  and 
severe.  The  facts  are  quite  different.  James’s  statute 
follows  Elizabeth’s  in  the  main,  even  in  phraseology.  (1)  The 
new  statute  (like  the  old)  provides  death  as  the  penalty  for 
invocation  or  conjuration  of  evil  spirits  for  any  purpose  and 
without  regard  to  the  issue.  But  it  inserts  two  clauses 
making  it  also  felony  to  “consult,  covenant  with,  entertain, 
employ,  feed,  or  reward  ” any  such  spirit  for  any  purpose, 

was  held  at  the  King's  Bench  (Holinshed,  4.  433).  An  excessively  curious  case  is 
that  of  a woman  tried  by  the  mayor  of  Faversham,  Kent,  in  1586.  The  court  and 
jury  were  convinced  that  she  was  not  guilty  of  witchcraft.  In  order  to  clear  her  of 
the  capital  charge,  a verdict  of  guilty  of  invocation  and  conjuration  was  brought  in. 
The  mayor  was  about  to  congratulate  the  defendant  on  escaping  with  her  life,  when 
the  legal  adviser  of  the  corporation  informed  him  that  invocation  and  conjuration 
amounted  to  felony,  and  she  was  hanged  accordingly.  Full  details  are  given  by 
John  Waller  in  Holinshed,  4.  891-893. 

29  1.  284. 

30  As  to  this  latter  dictum,  it  is  instructive  to  observe  that  in  1578  one  Dr.  Browne 
was  in  trouble  because  he  “spread  misliking  of  the  laws,  by  saying  there  are  no 
witches”  (Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  Addenda,  1566-1579,  p.  551). 


10  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


or  to  dig  up  any  dead  body,  or  part  thereof,  for  use  in  sor- 
cery. (2)  For  witchcraft  that  kills,  death  is  the  penalty  (as  in 
the  Elizabethan  enactment).  (3)  For  witchcraft  that  causes 
bodily  harm,  but  does  not  kill,  the  new  law  imposes  death 
for  the  first  (instead  of  the  second)  offence.  (4)  For  the 
minor  varieties  of  sorcery  and  witchcraft,  death  is  substituted 
for  life  imprisonment  as  the  penalty  for  the  second  offence.31 
Clearly  the  statute  of  1604  is  not  so  great  a novelty  as  we 
have  been  led  to  think.  It  is,  to  be  sure,  more  severe  than 
the  Elizabethan  enactment,  but  only  in  some  respects.  Let 
us  study  the  two  a little  further. 

The  substitution  of  death  for  life  imprisonment  as  the  pen- 
alty for  the  second  offence  in  certain  minor  grades  of  sorcery 
can  hardly  be  called  an  increase  in  severity.  The  appalling 
state  of  the  prisons  is  notorious.  There  was  a dreadful  out- 
break of  jail  fever  at  the  Oxford  assizes  in  1579, 32  and  another 
at  the  Exeter  assizes  in  1586. 33  Prisoners  often  died  while 
awaiting  trial  or  execution.  In  1608  the  Earl  of  Northamp- 
ton, as  Warden  of  the  Cinque  Ports,  induced  the  mayor  of 
Rye  to  admit  to  bail  a woman  condemned  to  death  for  aiding 
and  abetting  a witch.  Her  execution  had  been  stayed,  and 
it  was  feared  that  she  would  succumb  to  the  “lothsomness  of 
the  prison.”  34  Under  such  conditions,  the  change  from  a 
life-sentence  to  hanging  was  rather  mercy  than  rigor. 

The  penalty  for  digging  up  the  dead  (unknown  to  the 
Elizabethan  law)  was  not  excessive,  in  view  of  the  general 
severity  of  the  penal  code.  The  thing  was  certainly  done 
now  and  then.  It  was  a real  — not  an  imaginary  — crime, 
and  deserved  punishment.  However,  no  case  has  ever  been 
cited  in  which  a man  or  woman  was  put  to  death  for  this 

31  There  is  some  difference  between  the  two  statutes  in  defining  the  minor  varieties, 
but  it  is  slight  and  not  in  the  direction  of  severity. 

32  See  the  extraordinary  passage  in  Webster's  Displaying  of  Supposed  Witch- 
craft, 1677,  pp.  245-246. 

33  Walsingham  to  Leicester  (Leycester  Correspondence,  Camden  Society,  p. 
24) ; Hooker  (alias  Vowell),  in  Holinshed,  4.  868 ; Thomas  Cogan,  The  Haven  of 
Heath,  1589,  pp.  272  ff.  See  also  an  important  paper  on  the  Black  Assizes  in  the 
West,  by  F.  Wilcocks,  M.D.,  in  Transactions  of  the  Devonshire  Association,  16. 
595  ff.  For  Vowell,  see  Charles  Worthy,  in  the  same  Transactions,  14.  631  ff.  (cf. 
11.  442  ff.). 

34  13th  Report  of  the  Commission  on  Historical  MSS.,  Appendix,  Part  iv.,  pp. 
139-140. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


11 


offence  alone,  and  we  may  therefore  disregard  that  clause  as 
of  no  practical  effect. 

As  for  the  new  provision  about  consulting  or  covenanting 
with  evil  spirits,  or  feeding  them,  it  was  capable  of  operating 
with  great  severity.  In  fact,  however,  I do  not  believe  that 
a single  case  can  be  found  during  James’s  reign  in  which 
anybody  suffered  death  under  this  clause  who  was  not  other- 
wise liable  to  the  extreme  penalty.35 

There  remains,  then,  one  change  in  the  law,  and  only  one, 
— death  for  the  first  (instead  of  the  second ) offence  in  witch- 
craft that  injures  the  body  without  killing,  — to  justify  the 
common  opinion  that  James’s  statute  of  1604  was  so  stern 
an  enactment  as  to  make  an  era  in  English  witch-prosecu- 
tion. 

At  the  outset*  candor  impels  us  to  inquire  whether  James’s 
statute  was  really  severe  at  all.  Our  judgment  must  be 
based,  not  on  our  present  penal  code,  but  on  that  of  the  six- 
teenth and  seventeenth  centuries.  When  death  was  the 
penalty  for  stealing  a sheep,  or  breaking  into  a house,  or  tak- 
ing a purse  on  the  highway,  or  stealing  thirteenpence,  was 
it  harsh  to  hang  a witch  for  driving  her  neighbor  mad  or 
smiting  him  with  epilepsy  or  paralysis  ? 36  To  object  that 
witches  could  not  do  such  things  is  no  answer.  This  objec- 
tion might  hold  against  the  passing  of  any  law  whatever,  but 
has  nothing  to  do  with  the  question  of  severity.  It  is  quite 
as  silly  to  fine  or  imprison  a man  for  an  impossible  crime  as 
to  hang  him  for  it.  However,  we  may  waive  this  point,  for 
we  are  more  directly  concerned  with  the  question  whether 
James’s  law  was  so  much  severer  than  Elizabeth’s  as  to  make 
its  passage  a momentous  event.  This  is  to  be  tested,  of 
course,  by  observing  how  the  two  laws  worked,  not  by  weigh- 
ing their  words. 

To  get  the  perspective,  let  us  look  at  one  of  the  most  no- 


35  A possible  exception  is  Susan  Swapper,  of  Rye.  She  was  condemned  in  1607, 
but  I cannot  find  that  she  was  ever  executed.  The  case  is  exceedingly  curious  (see 
Commission  on  Historical  MSS.,  13th  Report,  Appendix,  Part  iv.,  pp.  136-137, 
139-140,  144,  147-148).  For  what  happened  after  1643,  when  James  had  been  in 
his  grave  a score  of  years,  it  is  absurdly  cruel  to  hold  him  accountable. 

36  Cf.  the  observations  of  Mr.  J.  W.  Brodie-Innes  in  his  interesting  brochure 
on  Scottish  Witchcraft  Trials,  pp.  21-24.  (Privately  Printed  Opuscula  issued  to 
Members  of  the  Sette  of  Odd  Volumes,  No.  25,  1891.) 


12  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAET  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


torious  of  Elizabethan  cases,  that  of  St.  Osyth  in  Essex. 
One  Ursula  (or  Ursley)  Kempe,  alias  Grey,  was  a woman 
of  ill  repute,  who  lived,  with  Thomas  Rabbet,  her  bastard 
son,  in  the  little  village  of  St.  Osith’s  (now  St.  Osyth),  near 
Colchester.  She  had  long  lain  under  suspicion  of  witchcraft. 
There  was  sickness  in  the  family  of  a neighbor,  Grace  Thur- 
lowe,  and  Grace  fancied  that  Ursula  was  to  blame.  The 
local  magistrate,  Brian  Darcey,  lent  a ready  ear  to  her  com- 
plaint. Witnesses  came  forward  in  abundance,  and  one 
revelation  led  to  another,  as  usual.  Thomas  Rabbet  gave 
evidence  against  his  mother.  Ursula  confessed  her  crimes, 
with  many  tears.  A whole  nest  of  offenders  was  uncovered, 
and,  in  conclusion,  no  less  than  thirteen  witches  were  con- 
victed. This  was  in  1582. 37  The  affair  made  a great  noise, 
and  appears  to  have  been  the  chief  immediate  impulse  to 
Reginald  Scot’s  famous  book,  The  Discovery  of  Witchcraft. 

Of  the  thirteen  persons  convicted  on  this  occasion,  all  but 
three  were  found  guilty  of  “bewitching  to  death,”  and  con- 
sequently suffered  the  extreme  penalty  under  the  statute  of 
Elizabeth.  James’s  statute  would  have  hanged  the  other 
three  as  well.  To  this  extent,  and  to  this  extent  alone,  would 
it  have  operated  more  severely  than  its  predecessor. 

The  St.  Osyth  tragedy  took  place  about  twenty  years 
before  James  I.  succeeded  to  the  English  crown.  Will  it  be 
believed,  in  the  face  of  the  vehement  denunciation  to  which 
this  king  is  traditionally  subjected  as  a besotted  persecutor, 
that  nothing  comparable  to  it  occurred  in  his  reign  until  1612, 
when  he  had  been  on  the  throne  for  nine  years  ? Yet  such 
is  the  indisputable  fact. 

An  analysis  of  these  Lancashire  trials  of  1612,  on  the  basis 
of  Thomas  Potts’s  official  narrative,  yields  the  following 
results.  Nineteen  persons  were  tried,  of  whom  eight  were 
acquitted.  Of  the  eleven  convicted,  one  (whose  offence  was 
the  killing  of  a mare)  was  sentenced  to  the  pillory.  This 
leaves  ten  who  were  hanged.38  Six  of  these  were  indicted 

37  Linton,  Witch  Stories,  1861,  pp.  205-221  (from  the  original  narrative  by  W.W., 
— A True  and  lust  Recorde,  etc.,  1582). 

3S  The  Wonderfull  Discoverie  of  Witches  in  the  Countie  of  Lancaster.  . . . To- 
gether with  the  Arraignement  and  Triall  of  lennet  Preston,  at  . . . Yorke,  Lon- 
don, 1613.  Cf.  Farington  Papers,  Chetham  Society,  1856,  p.  27.  One  other 
died  before  trial. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


13 


for  murder  by  witchcraft,  and  therefore  would  have  suffered 
death  under  Elizabeth’s  law  as  surely  as  under  James’s. 
Four,  then,  were  executed  who  might  have  got  off  with  im- 
prisonment if  the  older  statute  had  remained  in  force.  But 
it  is  by  no  means  certain  that  all  of  the  four  would  actually 
have  escaped  the  gallows.  For  there  was  evidence  of  mur- 
der by  witchcraft  against  two  of  them,  and  they  might  have 
been  tried  on  that  charge  if  the  lesser  accusation  of  driving  a 
woman  insane  had  not  sufficed  to  send  them  out  of  the  world. 
There  remain  but  two,  therefore,  of  the  eleven  convicted,  who, 
so  far  as  we  can  see,  would  have  been  in  no  danger  of  death 
under  Elizabethan  conditions.  And  one  of  these  exemptions 
may  be  balanced  by  the  case  of  the  woman  sent  to  the  pil- 
lory for  killing  a mare,  inasmuch  as  there  was  testimony  that 
she  too  had  confessed  to  a couple  of  murders,  so  that  the 
prosecutors  might  have  found  an  excuse  for  hanging  her,  even 
under  Elizabeth’s  statute,  if  they  had  so  desired.  In  the 
same  year,  Jennet  Preston  was  hanged  at  York.  She  was 
convicted  of  murder  by  witchcraft,  and  would  have  suffered 
death  by  Elizabeth’s  law.  Likewise  in  1612,  there  was  an 
outbreak  of  prosecution  in  Northamptonshire,  which  ended 
in  the  execution  of  five  persons.  Every  one  of  these,  how- 
ever, had  been  found  guilty  of  murder  by  witchcraft.39 
Hence  their  fate  under  the  statute  of  James  was  precisely 
what  it  would  have  been  if  Elizabeth’s  statute  of  1563  had 
never  been  supplanted. 

Two  facts  of  immense  significance  are  now  clear : first, 
that  James’s  accession  was  not  the  signal  for  an  outbreak 
of  witch  prosecution,  for  he  had  been  on  the  throne  for  nine 
years  before  any  such  outbreak  occurred ; second,  that  the 
statute  of  1604  was  not  appreciably  more  severe,  in  its  prac- 
tical working  in  1612,  than  the  Elizabethan  statute  would 
have  been  at  the  same  time  if  it  had  continued  in  force. 

Before  leaving  the  events  of  1612,  however,  we  must  in- 
quire whether  James  had  any  hand  in  the  prosecutions.  The 
answer  is  unequivocal.  There  is  not  a particle  of  evidence 
that  he  either  suggested  or  encouraged  the  trials,  or,  indeed, 
that  he  ever  heard  of  the  cases  until  the  defendants  had  been 


39  The  Witches  of  Northamptonshire,  1612  (reprint,  1867). 


14  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


hanged.  A contrary  view  is  sometimes  expressed  with 
regard  to  the  Lancaster  trials,40  but  there  is  no  foundation 
for  it.  The  source  of  the  error  is  nothing  more  or  less  than 
William  Harrison  Ainsworth’s  romance  entitled  The  Lan- 
cashire Witches.  This  was  published  in  1849,  and  appears 
to  have  proved  more  entertaining  to  some  historians  than 
the  study  of  authentic  documents. 

One  of  Ainsworth’s  most  amusing  characters  is  Master 
Thomas  Potts,  a London  lawyer.  Potts  happens  to  be  in 
Lancashire  on  legal  business,  and,  on  coming  into  contact 
with  the  rumors  and  petty  intrigues  of  the  neighborhood, 
grasps  the  chance  to  ingratiate  himself  with  King  James  by 
gathering  evidence  and  fomenting  prosecution.  “So  there 
are  suspected  witches  in  Pendle  Forest,  I find,”  says  Master 
Potts;  ’"I  shall  make  it  my  business  to  institute  inquiries 
concerning  them,  when  I visit  the  place  to-morrow.  Even 
if  merely  ill-reputed,  they  must  be  examined,  and  if  found  in- 
nocent cleared ; if  not,  punished  according  to  the  statute. 
Our  soverign  lord  the  king  holdeth  witches  in  especial  ab- 
horrence, and  would  gladly  see  all  such  noxious  vermin 
extirpated  from  the  land,  and  it  will  rejoice  me  to  promote 
his  laudable  designs.  . . . He  is  never  so  pleased  as  when 
the  truth  of  his  tenets  are  proved  by  such  secret  offenders 
being  brought  to  light,  and  duly  punished.”  41  And  again  : — 
“If  I can  unearth  a pack  of  witches,  I shall  gain  much  credit 
from  my  honourable  good  lords  the  judges  of  assize  . . . , 
besides  pleasing  the  King  himself,  who  is  sure  to  hear  of  it, 
and  reward  my  praiseworthy  zeal.”  42 

Ainsworth  is  quite  within  his  rights  as  a novelist,  but  we 
should  not  read  him  as  if  he  were  an  historian.  Potts  had 
nothing  to  do  with  getting  up  the  evidence  or  fomenting  the 
prosecution.  He  was  a London  lawyer,  or  law-writer,  who 
acted  as  clerk  at  the  Lancaster  assizes.  Probably  he  was 
accompanying  the  justices  on  their  circuit.  At  the  instance 
of  these  justices,  as  we  know,  he  prepared  an  official  narrative, 
which  was  published  in  1613  after  revision  by  one  of  them(Sir 
Edward  Bromley).  The  king  is  mentioned  only  once  in  this 

40  See,  for  example,  Horley,  Sefton,  1893,  p.  115,  note  1;  Roper,  Materials  for 
the  History  of  Lancaster,  Part  i.,  Chetham  Society,  1907,  pp.  26-27. 

41  1.  199-200.  42  1.  207  (of.  1.  241,  247). 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


15 


tract  (except,  of  course,  in  legal  formulas),  and  that  in  passing  : 
“What  hath  the  Kings  Maiestie  written  and  published  in  his 
Dcemonologie,  by  way  of  premonition  and  preuention,  which 
hath  not  here  by  the  first  or  last  beene  executed,  put  in  prac- 
tise or  discouered.”  43  If  James  had  known  anything  about 
the  case,  Potts  would  surely  have  brought  him  in. 

But  we  are  not  done  with  Ainsworth’s  contributions  to 
history.  In  the  third  volume  of  the  romance  he  introduces 
King  James  in  person,  talking  broad  Scots,  profoundly  im- 
pressed by  the  evidence,  causing  the  witches  to  be  brought 
into  his  presence,  and  urging  on  the  prosecution.  These 
scenes  occur  while  he  is  the  guest  of  Sir  Richard  Hoghton  at 
Hoghton  Tower.44  All  this  is  very  good  fiction  indeed.  But 
it  should  not  pass  as  history.  The  Pendle  witches  were 
hanged  in  August,  1612.  James  made  a progress  that  sum- 
mer, but  not  in  Lancashire.  His  visit  to  Hoghton  Tower 
was  five  years  later,  in  August,  1617. 45 

Ainsworth  wrote  The  Lancashire  Witches  at  the  suggestion 
of  Mr.  James  Crossley,  to  whom  he  dedicated  it.  Mr.  Cross- 
ley  was  an  admirable  antiquary,  and  the  world  is  in  his  debt 
for  a first-rate  edition  of  Potts’s  Disco  verie  and  for  many  other 
things.  But,  though  very  learned  in  the  literature  of  witch- 
craft, he  was  far  astray  in  his  estimate  of  James’s  attitude 
and  in  other  pertinent  matters.  He  ignores  the  Elizabethan 
statute  and  lays  stress  on  that  of  James,  “enacted,”  he  avers, 
“as  the  adulatory  tribute  of  all  parties,  against  which  no 
honest  voice  was  raised,  to  the  known  opinions  of  the  mon- 
arch.” 46  Mr.  Crossley  could  not  fail  to  observe  that  the 
passage  of  the  “execrable  statute”  of  1604  was  not  followed 
by  an  instant  fury  of  prosecution.  He  knew  well  that  eight 
years  elapsed  before  anything  took  place  that  was  at  all 
notable.  And  this  is  how  he  expresses  himself : the  stat- 
ute, he  suggests,  “might  have  been  sharpening  its  appetite 
by  a temporary  fast  for  the  full  meal  of  blood  by  which 
it  was  eventually  glutted.”  47  This  is  not  merely  personi- 
fication, — it  is  pure  mythology. 

43  Potts,  Wonderfull  Discoverie,  sig.  T2.  44  3.  241  ff. 

46  Journal  of  Nicholas  Assheton,  ed.  Raines,  Chetham  Society,  1848,  pp.  32  ff. 

46  Introduction  to  his  reprint  of  Potts,  Chetham  Society,  vol.  6,  p.  xviii. 

47  Introduction  to  Potts,  p.  xlv. 


16  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


The  plain  and  simple  truth  is  this : During  the  twenty- 
two  years  of  James’s  reign  (1603-1625),  there  was  no  more 
excitement  on  the  subject  of  witchcraft,  and  there  were  no 
more  executions,  than  during  the  last  twenty-two  years  of 
Elizabeth  (1581-1603). 48  James’s  accession  was  not  in  any 
sense  the  signal  for  an  outburst  of  prosecution.  As  we  have 
just  noted,  the  first  bad  year  was  1612,  when  he  had  been  on 
the  throne  for  almost  a decade.  It  is  certain  that  the  statute 
of  1604  was  not  more  severe,  in  its  practical  workings,  than 
the  statute  of  Elizabeth.49  Nor  can  a single  fact  be  brought 
forward  to  prove  that  James  was  eager,  during  his  English 
reign,  to  multiply  the  number  of  victims. 

We  must  now  examine  the  prevalent  opinion  that  the  stat- 
ute of  1604  was  passed  to  please  King  James  or  at  his  in- 
stance, or,  indeed,  that  he  wrote  the  bill  himself.  Most 
readers  will  be  surprised  to  learn  that  not  a particle  of  direct 
evidence  has  ever  been  adduced  in  favor  of  any  of  these 
propositions.  They  rest  entirely  upon  assumption  or  in- 
ference. The  earliest  testimony  that  I can  discover 50  is 
Hutchinson’s,  in  1718,  — more  than  a century  late;  and 
Hutchinson,  more  sao,  is  commendably  cautious.  He  does 
not  profess  to  have  any  authority  for  his  views.  “I  cannot 
forbear  thinking  ” — such  are  his  words  — “that  it  was  the 
King’s  Book  and  Judgment,  more  than  any  Encrease  of 
Witches,  that  influenc’d  the  Parliament  to  the  changing  the 
Old  Law.”  51  And  again,  “I  cannot  but  think,  that  if  King 
James  himself  was  not  the  first  Mover  and  Director  in  this 
change  of  the  Statute,  yet  there  might  probably  be  a Design 
of  making  Court  to  the  King  by  it.”  52  He  frankly  labels 
his  theory  “the  best  Guess  I can  make.”  53  The  “juryman  ” 


48  Exact  figures  are  unattainable,  but  the  records  are  quite  as  trustworthy  for 
1603-1625  as  for  1581-1603.  It  is  altogether  unlikely  that  a complete  scrutiny  would 
bring  to  light  more  new  cases  of  execution  for  the  later  period  than  for  the  earlier. 

49  That  is,  not  more  severe  during  James’s  reign.  For  what  occurred  long  after 
the  king’s  death,  he  cannot  be  blamed. 

60  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  what  Thomas  Cooper  says  in  The  Mysterie  of  Witch- 
craft, 1617,  p.  7,  will  not  be  taken  as  evidence  in  favor  of  the  current  view.  Here- 
tofore it  has  not  been  so  utilized. 

61  Historical  Essay  concerning  Witchcraft,  1718,  p.  179  (ed.  1720,  p.  22-1). 

82  P.  180.  Here  Hutchinson  is  referring  to  a particular  part  of  the  statute  (about 
the  violation  of  graves). 

63  P.  178. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


17 


(his  interlocutor  in  the  dialogue)  accepts  the  theory:  “I 
am  the  apter  to  believe  this  Account ; because  I have  often 
heard,  that  our  Law  did  come  from  thence,”  that  is,  from 
Scotland  along  with  the  new  king.54  Dr.  William  Harris,  in 
his  account  of  James  I.  (1753),  follows  Hutchinson,  whom  he 
cites,  remarking  that  the  statute  was  “formed  out  of  com- 
pliment (as  has  been  well  conjectured).”  55  Scott,  in  1810, 
follows  Hutchinson,  remarking  that  the  statute  “probably 
hadits  rise  in  the  complaisance  of  James’s  first  Parliament.”  56 
By  1829  the  tradition  had  hardened  considerably,  so  that 
a writer  in  the  Gentleman’s  Magazine  asserted  that  James 
“is  said  to  have  penned  [the  statute]  himself.”  57  So  much 
for  the  external  evidence,  — now  for  the  probabilities. 

In  the  first  place,  the  text  of  the  statute  is  sufficient  proof 
that  James  did  not  draft  it  himself.  For  it  is  not  a new  law. 
It  follows,  in  the  main,  the  Elizabethan  statute  word  for 
word.  At  the  utmost,  James  can  be  suspected  of  penning 
only  a few  phrases.  This  part  of  the  charge  we  may  there- 
fore dismiss  without  ceremony.  But  what  of  the  view  that 
James  fathered  or  fostered  the  bill,  that  it  was  introduced 
at  his  instance,  or  passed  with  an  eye  to  his  favor  ? Was 
there,  or  was  there  not,  such  a state  of  public  opinion  in  Eng- 
land as  will  account  for  the  statute  without  our  having  re- 
course to  the  conjecture  that  it  was  passed  under  James’s 
influence  or  out  of  complaisance  to  him  ? 

If  this  were  merely  a question  of  the  rank  and  file  of  the 
people,  there  would  be  no  room  for  argument.  The  last  few 
years  of  Elizabeth’s  reign  abounded  in  witch  prosecutions  and 
were  marked  by  intense  popular  excitement  on  the  subject. 
A typical  outbreak  was  that  in  Devon  in  1601  and  1602, 
when  the  Trevisard  family  was  complained  of  before  Sir 
Thomas  Ridgeway.58  But  we  are  now  occupied  with  the 
lawmakers,  who,  though  constantly  exposed  to  pressure  from 
the  populace,  may  conceivably  have  preferred  the  status  quo. 
Was  there,  or  was  there  not,  before  James’s  accession,  a 

64  P.180.  66  Pp.  40-41. 

66  Somers  Tracts,  2d  edition,  3.  95. 

67  In  a series  of  articles  on  the  Rise  and  Progress  of  Witchcraft,  containing  much 
valuable  material.  Gentleman’s  Magazine  Library,  Popular  Superstitions,  p.  233. 

68  See  the  original  examinations  (inedited)  in  the  Harvard  College  Library. 


18  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 

movement  among  the  better  educated  classes  for  a revision 
of  the  law  and  a sharpening  of  the  penalties  ? To  test  this 
question,  we  may  consult  four  well-known  treatises  which 
are  seldom  scrutinized  from  this  point  of  view.  We  will 
begin  with  Perkins’s  Discourse. 

William  Perkins,  the  eminent  theologian,  born  in  1558, 
was  Fellow  of  Christ’s  College,  Cambridge,  from  1584  to 
1594.  He  died  in  1602,  leaving  behind  him  A Discourse  of 
the  Damned  Art  of  Witchcraft,  which  was  published  in  1608 
by  Thomas  Pickering,  B.D.  of  Cambridge,  and  Minister  of 
Finchingfield,  Essex.  Pickering  dedicated  the  volume  to 
Coke.  Though  not  issued  in  the  author’s  lifetime,  this  trea- 
tise is  good  evidence  as  to  what  the  views  of  learned  English- 
men were  at  the  turn  of  the  century.  Nor  was  it  without 
influence  before  Perkins  died,  for,  as  the  title-page  sets 
forth,  the  discourse  was  “framed  and  delivered  ” by  him 
“in  his  ordinarie  course  of  Preaching.”  It  came  from  the 
press  of  the  Cambridge  University  Printer. 

Perkins’s  book  is  a masterpiece.  It  is  cogently  reasoned, 
and  marked  by  that  concise  and  simple  style  for  which  this 
author  was  distinguished  above  his  contemporaries.  We 
may  shudder  at  his  opinions,  but  are  forced  to  admire  his 
candor  and  ability.  Perkins  warns  his  readers  against  con- 
victing on  slender  evidence.  His  virile  and  methodical  in- 
tellect draws  the  line  sharply  between  presumptions  that  jus- 
tify suspicion,  and  proofs  that  warrant  a verdict  of  guilty.59 
Certain  superstitious  popular  tests  he  rejects  utterly,  — 
such  as  scratching  the  witch,  and  firing  the  thatch  of  her 
cottage,  and  the  ordeal  by  swimming.60  Some  of  these, 
he  declares,  “if  not  all,  are  after  a sort  practises  of  Witch- 
craft, hailing  in  them  no  power  or  vertue  to  detect  a Sor- 
cerer, either  by  Gods  ordinance  in  the  creation,  or  by  any 
speciall  appointment  since.”  In  scouting  the  water  ordeal, 
Perkins  may  have  had  his  eye  upon  King  James’s  defence 
of  it  in  the  Diemonologie.  “It  appeares,”  the  king  had  writ- 
ten, “that  God  hath  appointed  (for  a supernatural!  signe 
of  the  monstrous  impietie  of  Witches)  that  the  water  shall 
refuse  to  receiue  them  in  her  bosome,  that  haue  shaken  off 


69  Pp.  200  ff. 


60  Pp.  206  fi. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


19 


them  the  sacred  Water  of  Baptisme,  and  wilfully  refused 
the  benefite  thereof.”  61  Note  the  brevity  and  force  of  Per- 
kins’s refutation : — “To  iustifie  the  casting  of  a Witch  into 
the  water,  it  is  alledged,  that  hauing  made  a couenant  with  the 
deuill,  shee  hath  renounced  her  Baptisme,  and  hereupon  there 
growes  an  Antipathie  betweene  her,  and  water.  Ans.  This 
allegation  serues  to  no  purpose  : for  all  water  is  not  the  water 
of  Baptisme,  but  that  onely  which  is  vsed  in  the  very  act 
of  Baptisme,  and  not  before  nor  after.  The  element  out  of 
the  vse  of  the  Sacrament,  is  no  Sacrament,  but  returnes 
again  to  his  common  vse.”  62  Let  us  remark,  in  passing, 
that  Thomas  Pickering,  a beneficed  clergyman,  did  not 
hesitate  to  publish  this  unceremonious  denial  of  the  king’s 
argument  in  1608,  when  James  had  been  five  years  on  the 
throne,  and  to  dedicate  the  work  which  contains  it  to  Chief 
Justice  Coke.  This  may  serve  to  correct,  pro  tanto,  the  too 
prevalent  opinion  that  James  I.  expected  his  English  subjects 
to  receive  his  Dajmonologie  as  but  little,  if  at  all,  inferior  in 
authority  to  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

Our  immediate  concern,  however,  is  with  the  general 
tendency  of  Perkins’s  treatise,  and  in  particular  with  his 
precepts  as  to  punishment.  He  admits  the  witch  dogma 
in  its  entirety.  The  ground  of  all  sorcery  is  a league  or 
covenant  with  the  devil,  which  may  be  either  express  or 
implicit.  There  are  two  kinds  of  witchcraft,  — namely, 
divining  and  working.63  The  second  class  includes  the  rais- 
ing of  storms,  the  poisoning  of  the  air  (which  brings  pesti- 
lence), the  blasting  of  corn,  “the  procuring  of  strange  pas- 
sions and  torments  in  mens  bodies  and  other  creatures,  with 
the  curing  of  the  same.”  64  It  is  an  error  to  hold  that  melan- 
cholia so  deludes  women  that  they  imagine  themselves 
witches  when  indeed  they  are  none.  Perhaps,  after  the 
witch  has  made  her  contract  with  the  fiend,  she  may  credit 
herself  with  imaginary  powers,  but  the  wonders  already 
enumerated  she  can  certainly  perform,  with  Satan’s  aid.65 
Thus  Perkins  opposes  himself  squarely  to  Wierus  and  Scot. 
His  refutation  of  their  theories  is  solid  and  convincing,  if  we 

61  London,  Printed  for  William  Apsley  and  W.  Cotton,  1603,  p.  80  (misprinted, 
“64”). 

62  P.  208.  63  P.  55.  64  P.  128.  66  Pp.  191-196. 


20  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 

admit  what  nobody  dreamt  of  denying,  — the  existence  of 
evil  spirits.  His  book,  indeed,  may  be  taken  as  a measure 
of  the  slight  effect  which  these  dissentients  had  produced  on 
the  minds  of  sixteenth-century  Englishmen. 

As  to  the  law  against  witchcraft,  Perkins  is  an  invaluable 
witness.  He  wrote  when  the  Elizabethan  statute  was  in 
force,  and  he  was  of  course  not  under  the  sway  of  King  James 
of  Scotland,  with  whose  theories,  indeed,  we  have  seen  him 
at  outspoken  variance.  Perkins  believes  that  the  law  of 
Moses  should  continue  in  force,  and  that  “all  Witches  beeing 
thoroughly  conuicted  by  the  Magistrate,”  should  be  put  to 
death.66  He  expressly  declares  that  this  punishment  ought 
to  be  inflicted  not  only  upon  those  who  kill  by  means  of  witch- 
craft, but  upon  all  witches  without  any  exception  whatever, 
— upon  “all  Diuiners,  Charmers,  Iuglers,  all  Wizzards, 
commonly  called  wise  men  and  wise  women.”  He  includes 
in  plain  terms  all  so-called  “good  Witches,  which  doe  no 
hurt  but  good,  which  doe  not  spoile  and  destroy,  but  saue 
and  deliver.”  Here  he  uses  a really  unanswerable  argu- 
ment, which  shows  in  the  most  striking  fashion  how  ill- 
ecpiipped  we  are,  with  our  mild  penal  laws,  to  sit  in  judg- 
ment on  the  severity  — whether  actual  or  comparative  — 
of  the  Jacobean  statute.  “By  the  lawes  of  England,” 
writes  Perkins,  “the  thiefe  is  executed  for  stealing,  and  we 
think  it  iust  and  profitable : but  it  were  a thousand  times 
better  for  the  land,  if  all  Witches,  but  specially  the  blessing 
Witch  might  suffer  death.  For  the  thiefe  by  his  stealing, 
and  the  hurtfull  Inchanter  by  charming,  bring  hinderance 
and  hurt  to  the  bodies  and  goods  of  men ; but  these  are 
the  right  hand  of  the  deuill,  by  which  he  taketh  and 
destroieth  the  soules  of  men.  Men  doe  commonly  hate 
and  spit  at  the  damnifying  Sorcerer,  as  vnworthie  to 
hue  among  them ; whereas  the  other  is  so  deare  vnto 
them,  that  they  hold  themselues  and  their  countrey  blessed 
that  haue  him  among  them,  they  Hie  vnto  him  in 
necessitie,  they  depend  vpon  him  as  their  god,  and  by 
this  meanes,  thousands  are  carried  away  to  their  finall 
confusion.  Death  therefore  is  the  iust  and  deserued  por- 


66  p 247. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


21 


tion  of  the  good  Witch.”  These  are  the  closing  words 
of  Perkins’s  weighty  treatise.67 

Perkins  was  a vital  force  in  forming  English  opinion  while 
he  was  alive,  especially  during  the  last  decade  of  the  sixteenth 
century  and  at  the  beginning  of  the  seventeenth.  Few 
Cambridge  lecturers  were  more  authoritative,  and  Cambridge 
was  in  close  contact  with  public  men.  He  “ was  buried  with 
great  solemnity  at  the  sole  charges  of  Christs  C oiled ge,  the 
University  and  Town  striving  which  should  expresse  more 
sorrow  at  his  Funeral;  Doctor  Montague  Preached  his 
Funeral  Sermon  upon  that  Text,  Moses  my  Servant  is  dead.”  68 
This  was  James  Montagu,  first  Master  of  Sidney  Sussex 
College,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells  (1608)  and  of 
Winchester  (1616).  Bishop  Hall,  who  was  at  Cambridge 
while  Perkins  was  active,  commends  him  warmly.  “A 
worthy  divine,”  he  calls  him,  “whose  labors  are  of  much  note 
and  use  in  the  Church  of  God.”  69  Fuller  is  also  among  his 
admirers.70  How  the  Discourse  worked  when  its  substance 
was  orally  delivered  “in  his  ordinarie  course  of  preaching  ” 
may  be  inferred  from  the  respect  with  which  the  printed 
book  is  continually  cited,  — by  Cotta,  for  example,  in  his 
Triall  of  Witch-craft  (1616). 71  Cotta’s  treatise  is  likewise 
dedicated  to  Coke. 

John  Cotta  was  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  in  1590, 
and  later  of  Corpus  Christi.  He  received  the  degree  of  M.A. 
in  1596,  and  that  of  M.D.  in  1603.  His  first  book  appeared 
in  1612.  It  contains  a good  deal  about  witchcraft.  In 
1616  he  published  a systematic  treatise,  A Triad  of  Witch- 
craft, of  which  a second  edition  came  out  in  1624.  The  main 
object  of  this  work  is  to  prove  that  any  given  case  of  alleged 
sorcery  ought  to  be  examined  by  methods  of  the  senses  and 
reason,  like  other  objects  of  investigation.  Cotta,  then, 
is  on  the  right  side.  He  follows  Wierus  in  maintaining  that 

67  Pp-  256-257.  For  other  expressions  of  opinion  on  witchcraft,  see  Perkins’s 
Golden  Chaine,  ed.  1605,  pp.  34-36,  and  his  Combate  betweene  Christ  and  the 
Diuell,  ed.  1606,  pp.  16,  25,  37. 

68  Samuel  Clarke,  Life  of  Perkins  (Marrow  of  Ecclesiastical  History,  Part  i., 
3d  ed.,  1675,  p.  416) ; cf.  John  Manningham’s  Diary,  ed.  Bruce,  Camden  Society, 
p.  104 ; Fuller,  Holy  State,  ed.  1840,  p.  71. 

69  Works,  Oxford,  1837,  6.  340. 

70  See  note  68  above. 


71  Pp.  53,  89,  91,  95. 


22  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


many  so-called  bewitched  persons  are  suffering  from  natural 
disease.  When  he  wrote  he  was  practising  at  Northampton, 
where  he  had  resided  ever  since  he  took  his  medical  degree 
in  1603.  His  rationalizing  attitude  was  largely  the  result 
of  his  own  experience  as  a physician  during  this  interval. 

The  whole  ground  of  Cotta’s  argument  is  an  acceptance 
of  the  traditional  witch-dogma.  He  believes  that  there  are 
witches  in  plenty  ; that  they  make  contracts  with  the  devil ; 
that  supernatural  deeds  are  performed  by  the  fiend,  in  which 
the  witch  “hath  a property  and  interest”  by  virtue  of  her 
covenant  with  him ; that,  in  this  way,  witches  may  be  im- 
plicated in  afflicting  their  fellow-creatures  with  diseases  or  in 
causing  their  death.  As  concrete  examples,  we  may  take 
the  witches  of  Warboys  (1589-1593)  and  the  Lancashire 
witches  (1612),  for  both  of  those  notorious  cases  are  accepted 
by  Cotta  without  demur.72  And,  just  as  he  is  confident 
that  the  guilt  of  a witch  may  be  discovered  with  certainty 
by  methods  of  reason  and  perception  which  he  develops 
elaborately,  so  he  is  content  to  leave  her  to  the  courts,  to 
be  “arraigned  and  condemned  of  manifest  high  treason 
against  Almighty  God,  and  of  combination  with  his  open  and 
professed  enemy  the  Diuell.”  73  The  statute  of  1604  was 
none  too  rigorous  for  Dr.  Cotta.  If  these  were  his  sentiments 
in  1616,  when  he  was  writing  a cautionary  and  corrective 
treatise,  we  may  be  certain  that  his  views  were  quite  as 
orthodox  at  the  turn  of  the  century,  when  he  was  still  at  the 
University  of  Cambridge  and  subject  to  the  influence  of  Per- 
kins, whom  he  cites  with  so  much  respect. 

From  Cambridge  we  turn  to  Oxford.  Thomas  Cooper, 
of  Christ  Church,  was  A.B.  in  1590,  A.M.  in  1593,  B.D.  in 
1600.  In  1601  he  was  presented  by  his  college  to  a living 
in  Cheshire,  which  he  resigned  in  1604.  From  1604  to  1610 
he  was  vicar  of  Holy  Trinity,  Coventry.74  His  volume 
entitled  The  Mystery  of  Witch-craft  was  not  published  until 
1617,  but  it  embodies  information  enough  about  the  author's 

72  Pp.  77,  90.  73  P.  80. 

74  Ormerod,  County  of  Chester,  ed.  Helsby,  1.  611 ; Joseph  Welch,  List  of  the 
Queen’s  Scholars  of  St.  Peter’s  College,  Westminister,  ed.  Phillimore,  p.  59 ; 
Foster,  Alumni  Oxonienses,  1.  325;  Dictionary  of  National  Biography;  Cooper, 
Mystery,  sig.  A2. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


23 


experiences  and  opinions  in  the  time  preceding  the  accession 
of  James  to  make  it  available  for  our  present  purposes. 
Cooper’s  acquaintance  with  magic  began  while  he  was  a 
student  at  Oxford.  There  was  a time,  he  tells  us,  when 
he  “admired  some  in  the  Vniuersitie  famozed  in  that  skill.” 
“Did  not,”  he  exclaims,  — “did  not  the  Lord  so  dispose  of 
mee,  that  my  Chamber-fellow  was  exceedingly  bewitched 
with  these  faire  sliewes,  and  hauing  gotten  diuers  bookes  to 
that  end,  was  earnest  in  the  pursuit  of  that  glorie  which 
might  redound  thereby  ? Did  not  wee  communicate  our 
Studies  together  ? was  not  this  skill  proposed  and  canuased 
in  common  ? And  did  not  the  Lord  so  arme  his  vn worthy 
seruant,  that  not  onely  the  snare  was  gratiously  espied ; but, 
by  the  great  mercie  of  my  God,  the  Lord  vsed  mee  as  a 
meanes  to  diuert  my  Chamber -fellow  from  these  dangerous 
studies?”  75  Thus  we  learn  that  when  Cooper  received  his 
Cheshire  living,  in  1601,  he  was  deeply  impressed  with  the 
horror  of  dealing  with  devils.  Between  this  date  and  1610 
he  had  several  encounters  with  witchcraft,  — at  Northwich 
(near  Chester),  in  Lancashire,  and  at  Coventry.76  Some  of 
these  are  perhaps  too  late  for  us  to  use,  but  the  Northwich 
incident  falls  in  1601  and  1602. 77  At  all  events,  we  are  safe 
in  believing  that  the  sentiments  which  Cooper  expresses  in 
his  volume  do  not  differ  appreciably  from  those  which  he 
entertained  before  James’s  accession.  Now  Cooper  agrees 
in  all  essentials  and  in  most  particulars  with  Perkins,  from 
whom  he  borrows  largely  without  due  acknowledgment.78 
Writing  after  the  passage  of  the  statute  of  1604,  he  rejoices 
that  the  law  has  been  made  severer.79  Yet  he  is  not  satisfied. 
Like  Perkins,  he  holds  that  “the  Blesser  or  good  Witch  . . . 
is  farre  more  dangerous  then  the  Badde  or  hurting  Witch,’’’’  80 
and  that  both  kinds  ought  to  be  extirpated.  Thus  it  ap- 

76  Pp.  12-13.  76  Sig.  A3,  A4,  p.  13. 

77  Deacon  and  Walker  refer  to  the  case  in  their  Summarie  Answere  to  Darrel, 
1601,  p.  237.  Darrel,  in  A Survey  of  Certain  Dialogical  Discourses,  1602,  p.  54, 
gives  the  boy’s  name  (“  Tho.  Harison  of  North  Wych  in  Ches  shire”),  and  says  that 
he  is  “at  this  present  very  greuously  vexed  by  Sathan.” 

78  Compare,  for  instance.  Cooper,  pp.  52-55,  with  Perkins,  pp.  19-22,  26,  27, 
30,  31,  33,  34;  Cooper,  pp.  64-65,  with  Perkins,  pp.  41-43;  Cooper,  p.  68,  with 
Perkins,  pp.  47-48;  Cooper,  pp.  128-133,  136,  with  Perkins,  pp.  55-67,  73,  92, 
104. 

79  P.  314. 


80  P.  232. 


24  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


pears  that  Cooper,  though  he  wrote  after  the  passage  of  the 
statute  of  1604,  may  serve  as  a witness  to  the  opinions  that 
prevailed  among  many  of  the  clergy  at  about  the  turn  of  the 
century. 

Our  fourth  witness  is  a very  strong  one,  and  his  testimony 
is  not  complicated  by  inferences  about  dates.  He  is  George 
Giffard,  another  Oxford  man.  Giffard’s  Dialogue  concern- 
ing Witches  and  Witchcrafts  was  first  published  in  1593,  — 
a year  otherwise  notable  in  the  annals  of  English  sorcery, 
as  we  shall  see  in  a moment.  It  was  reissued  in  1603,  three 
years  after  his  death.81  Giffard  was  an  eminent  preacher 
of  Maldon,  in  Essex.  He  passes  for  one  of  the  earliest  op- 
ponents of  the  witchcraft  delusion,  and  with  some  reason, 
for  he  held  that  sickness  and  death  ascribed  to  witchcraft 
were  due  to  natural  causes,  he  repudiated  spectral  and  hear- 
say evidence,  and  he  argued  against  convicting  anybody 
except  on  conclusive  testimony.  Yet  it  never  entered  his 
head  to  deny  the  existence  of  witches  or  to  doubt  that  they 
have  dealings  with  the  fiend.  He  tells  us  that  the  times 
were  devil-haunted.  “It  falleth  out  in  many  places  euen 
of  a sudden,  as  it  seemeth  to  me,  and  no  doubt  by  the  heauie 
iudgement  of  God,  that  the  Diuels  as  it  were  let  loose,  do 
more  preuaile,  then  euer  I haue  heard  of.  . . . Satan  is 
now  heard  speake,  and  beleeued.  He  speaketh  by  con- 
iurers,  by  sorcerers,  and  by  witches,  and  his  word  is  taken. 
He  deuiseth  a number  of  things  to  be  done,  & they  are  put  in 
practise  and  followed.”  82  Giffard  is  here  speaking  in  his 
own  person.  Elsewhere  in  the  dialogue  he  gives  us  a first- 
rate  account  of  the  popular  terror.  One  of  the  interlocutors 
is  “Samuel,”  an  honest  and  well-to-do  goodman.  “They 
say,”  declares  Samuel,  “there  is  scarse  any  towne  or  village 
in  all  this  shire,  but  there  is  one  or  two  witches  at  the  least 
in  it.”  83  And  the  annals  of  Essex  bear  out  Samuel’s  views. 
Thirteen  witches,  as  we  have  seen,  were  convicted  and  ten 

81  The  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  and  Dr.  Usher  date  Giffard’s  death 
1020.  But  he  was  doubtless  the  George  Giffard  of  Maldon  whose  will  was  proved 
in  1600  (Transactions  of  the  Essex  Arehteological  Society,  New  Series,  7.  46).  For 
Giffard’s  connection  with  the  Classical  Movement  of  1573-1592,  see  R.  G.  Usher, 
Presbyterian  Movement,  1905,  pp.  xli,  9,  16,  19,  42,  94.  For  Giffard’s  reputation 
see  D’Ewes,  Autobiography,  ed.  Halliwell,  1.  114, 

82  Dedicatory  Epistle.  83  Ed.  1603,  sig.  A 3. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


25 


of  them  hanged  at  Chelmsford  in  1582,  and  there  were  other 
executions  there  in  1579  and  1589.  It  was  an  outbreak 
in  that  same  neighborhood  in  1645  that  started  Matthew 
Hopkins  on  his  career ; and  the  evidence  and  confessions  went 
back,  in  some  instances  for  twenty,  and  even  thirty  years.84 
Giffard  was  a man  of  unusual  humanity  and  strong  common 
sense,  as  his  book  shows.  Yet  he  was  heartily  in  favor  of 
a severer  law  than  the  statute  of  Elizabeth.  The  following 
passage  from  his  Dialogue  is  a precious  document  for  our 
present  purposes.  “Daniel  ” is  the  speaker  who  presents 
Giffard’s  own  views;  “M.  B.”  is  a schoolmaster. 

Dan.  A witch  by  the  word  of  God  ought  to  die  the  death,  not  because 
she  killeth  men,  for  that  she  cannot  (vnles  it  be  those  witches  which  kill 
by  poyson,  which  either  they  receiue  from  the  diuell,  or  hee  teacheth  them 
to  make)  but  because  she  dealeth  with  diuels.  And  so  if  a Iurie  doe  finde 
proofe  that  she  hath  dealt  with  diuels,  they  may  and  ought  to  finde  them 
guiltie  of  witchcraft. 

M . B.  If  they  finde  them  guiltie  to  haue  dealt  with  diuels,  and  cannot 
say  they  haue  murdered  men,  the  law  doth  not  put  them  to  death. 

Dan.  It  were  to  be  wished,  that  the  law  were  more  [pjerfect  in  that 
respect,  euen  to  cut  off  all  such  abhominations.  These  cunning  men  and 
women  which  deale  with  spirites  and  charmes  seeming  to  doe  good,  and 
draw  the  people  into  manifold  impieties,  with  all  other  which  haue  famil- 
iarity with  deuels,  or  vse  coniurations,  ought  to  bee  rooted  out,  that  others 
might  see  and  feare.  (Sig.  K3.) 

Here  we  have  a highly  intelligent  preacher,  a man  of  real 
influence,  pressing  for  precisely  that  change  in  the  law  — 
the  extension  of  the  death  penalty  to  witchcraft  that  pro- 
duces bodily  injury  without  death  — which  was  actually 
embodied  in  the  statute  of  1604.  And  Giffard,  like  Perkins, 
condemns  the  “white  witch  ” utterly.  The  evidence  speaks 
for  itself. 

Perkins’s  Discourse  and  Giffard’s  Dialogue  are  strongly 
contrasted  works.  Giffard  addresses  his  teaching  to  the 
unlearned  : he  throws  his  book  into  the  form  of  a conversa- 
tion (so  he  tells  us)  “to  make  it  fitter  for  the  capacity  of  the 
simpler  sort.”  Perkins,  on  the  other  hand,  writes  for  edu- 
cated persons,  — for  those  who  can  follow  a close-knit 
scholastic  argument.  Giffard’s  aim  is  to  free  the  minds  of 

84  A True  and  Exact  Relation  of  the  severall  Informations  [etc.]  of  the  late 
Witches,  1645,  pp.  8,  15,  32,  34. 


26  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


the  common  people  from  needless  terrors  and  to  prevent  the 
shedding  of  innocent  blood.  Perkins,  though  he  warns  his 
readers  (as  Giffard  does)  against  condemning  on  slender 
evidence,  is  chiefly  bent  on  defending  the  witchcraft  dogma 
against  the  assaults  of  Wierus  and  Reginald  Scot.  Yet  both 
Giffard  and  Perkins  hold  tenaciously  to  the  inherited  belief. 
There  are  such  things  as  witches ; they  do  ally  themselves 
with  the  devil ; they  should  be  punished.  And  in  this  matter 
of  the  penalty  — which  is  our  chief  concern  at  the  moment  — 
Giffard  and  Perkins  are  in  perfect  accord.  Both  maintain 
that  all  witches  ought  to  he  put  to  death,  irrespective  of  the  ques- 
tion whether  they  have  killed  men  by  their  arts  or  not.  In  other 
words,  the  Elizabethan  statute  seemed  to  them  insufficient, 
and  they  urged  the  enacting  of  a law  of  greater  severity. 
Could  there  be  more  illuminating  evidence  ? Nothing  can 
be  clearer  than  that,  about  the  turn  of  the  century,  before 
Elizabeth  was  dead  and  James  had  taken  her  place,  there 
was  strong  pressure  for  a revision  of  the  witchcraft  law,  and 
for  revision  in  the  direction  taken  by  the  statute  of  1604. 
This  was  the  kind  of  pressure  to  which  the  legislators  yielded 
— nothing  loth,  to  be  sure.  They  were  not  browbeaten  by 
King  James,  nor  did  they  vote  with  an  eye  to  the  royal  favor. 
They  followed  their  own  consciences,  incited  by  the  feelings 
of  the  populace  and  stimulated  by  the  exhortations  of  the 
gravest  counsellors  they  knew. 

The  four  books  that  we  have  just  examined  would  suffice 
to  prove,  even  if  there  were  no  other  evidence,  that  the  acces- 
sion of  James  found  the  English  public  — both  in  its  educated 
and  its  uneducated  classes  — deeply  impressed  with  the 
actuality  of  witchcraft  as  an  ever-present  menace  to  soul  and 
body,  intensely  excited  on  the  subject,  and  pressing  hard 
for  the  extermination  of  witches.85  But  there  is  other  evi- 
dence in  plenty.  The  records  from  1582  to  1603  abound  in 
specific  cases.  Two  items  call  for  particular  notice : the 
Darrel  affair  (1586-1601),  and  the  affair  of  the  Witches  of 
Warboys  (1589-1593).  There  is  a close  psychological  con- 
nection between  them. 

85  The  general  anxiety  of  Englishmen  as  Elizabeth’s  death  drew  nigh  is  graphi- 
cally described  by  Dekker,  The  Wonderfull  Yeare,  1603  (Works,  ed.  Grosart,  1. 
94-96).  Such  crises  are  always  favorable  to  outbreaks  of  witch-prosecution. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


27 


John  Darrel,  a Cambridge  graduate,  was  a Puritan 
preacher  in  Derbyshire  when  (in  1586)  he  began  his  career 
as  a caster-out  of  devils.  In  1598  he  was  summoned  before 
an  ecclesiastical  commission  over  which  Archbishop  Whit- 
gift  presided.  Bishop  Bancroft  and  Chief  Justice  Anderson 
were  members  of  the  commission.  More  than  forty  witnesses 
were  called.  Some  of  the  demoniacs  confessed  fraud,  and 
Darrel,  with  his  associate  George  More,  was  convicted  of 
imposture  and  imprisoned.86  There  had  been  an  uproar  over 
the  possessions  and  the  exorcisms,  and  popular  opinion  sided 
with  Darrel.  Samuel  Harsnet,  the  cleverest  of  Bishop  Ban- 
croft’s chaplains,  was  delegated  to  write  up  the  case.  His 
famous  Discovery  came  out  in  1599,  and  was  expected  to 
overwhelm  Darrel  with  ridicule  and  odium.  In  the  long  run 
it  has  had  this  result,  for  Darrel  is  usually  treated  nowadays 
as  an  impostor.  But  it  had  no  such  effect  at  the  time.  Both 
Darrel  and  More  wrote  long  replies,  and  printed  them  sur- 
reptitiously in  defiance  of  the  authorities. 

Bancroft  soon  discovered  that  Harsnet’s  skirmishing 
was  not  sufficient,  and  he  brought  his  heavy  troops  into 
action.  Two  treatises,  of  unimaginable  ponderosity  in  style 
and  matter,  each  elaborated  in  concert  by  two  preachers, 
John  Deacon  and  John  Walker,  came  out  in  1601. 87  Harsnet 
had  railed  and  ridiculed  and  “exposed,”  but  he  had  steered 
clear  of  dialectics.  Deacon  and  Walker  toiled  to  supply 
the  desideratum.  Using  all  the  scholastic  machinery,  they 
tried  to  prove,  by  logic  and  Scripture,  that  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  demoniacal  possession  nowadays,  and  that  Dar- 
rel’s demoniacs  were  either  counterfeiting  or  else  afflicted 
with  natural  diseases.  Darrel  promptly  replied  to  both 
books,  printing  his  answers  surreptitiously,  as  before. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  Darrel  has  the  best  of  the  argu- 
ment. For  his  opponents  admit  both  too  little  and  too 
much.  They  admit  too  little,  since  they  wish  the  fits  to 
appear  fraudulent,  whereas  these  were,  beyond  a shadow 
of  doubt,  genuine  hysteria,  of  which  lying  and  imposture  are 
well-recognized  symptoms.  Darrel  was  sharp  enough  to  see 
that,  as  managed  by  his  opponents,  the  hypothesis  of  fraud 

86  Harsnet,  Discovery,  1599,  pp.  8-9. 

87  Summarie  Answere,  and  Dialogicall  Discourses. 


28  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


and  the  hypothesis  of  disease  thwarted  each  other,  and  left 
some  kind  of  demonic  assault  in  possession  of  the  field. 
They  admit  too  much,  because  they  themselves  grant  the 
existence  of  evil  spirits  of  vast  power  (nay,  take  pains  to 
demonstrate  their  existence),  and  because  they  accept 
demoniacal  possession  as  a fact  in  ancient  times,  though  they 
reject  it  for  the  present  age.  This  rejection  was,  of  course, 
quite  arbitrary,  and  their  attempts  to  justify  it  from  Scripture 
were  pitifully  weak.  Darrel  could  appeal  to  facts  and  ex- 
perience. His  patients  had  manifested  the  same  symptoms 
as  the  demoniacs  of  old,  and  it  was  obviously  absurd  to  force 
a distinction.  If  the  afflicted  persons  in  Bible  times  were 
possessed  with  devils,  then  his  patients  were  possessed  with 
devils;  and  if  he  had  relieved  them  (as  he  surely  had),  then 
there  was  no  reason  which  Deacon  and  Walker  could  make 
valid  to  reject  the  corollary  of  dispossession. 

But  what  connection  has  this  strange  affair  with  witch- 
craft ? Here  we  must  walk  circumspectly,  for  misappre- 
hensions are  rife.  It  is  often  inferred  that  Bancroft  and 
Harsnet,  because  they  denounced  Darrel  and  his  patients 
as  tricksters,  had  no  belief  in  witchcraft.  This  is  a false 
conclusion.  A demoniac  is  not  necessarily  bewitched.  He 
may  owe  his  dire  condition  to  some  witch’s  malice,  or,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  devil  may  have  assailed  him  immediately, 
without  a witch’s  agency.  Further,  there  are  many  evil 
things  done  by  witches  which  have  no  reference  to  demoni- 
acal possession.  In  all  of  Darrel’s  cases,  to  be  sure,  witches 
were  accused.  To  some  extent,  then,  Bancroft  and  his 
assistants  were,  in  effect,  attempting  to  discredit  the  witch 
dogma,  since  they  wTere  attacking  the  genuineness,  or  the 
diabolical  origin,  of  certain  phenomena  ascribed,  in  these 
particular  instances,  to  witchcraft.  But  (and  we  cannot  be 
too  careful  in  making  the  distinction)  they  did  not  deny  either 
the  existence  or  the  criminality  of  witches  in  general , any  more 
than  they  denied  the  existence  of  wicked  spirits.  They  strove 
to  explode  the  theory  of  demoniacal  possession ; but  they 
did  not  attack  the  witchcraft  dogma.  Indeed,  they  took 
care  to  avoid  committing  themselves  on  that  head.  For,  even 
if  they  had  no  faith  in  the  dogma,  they  knew  that  to  assail  it 
would  throw  them  out  of  court,  inasmuch  as  the  belief  in 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


29 


witchcraft  was,  in  some  form  or  other,  universal  among  all 
classes  and  all  persuasions. 

Further,  Bancroft  and  his  aids,  in  their  opposition  to 
Darrel,  were  not  espousing  the  cause  of  alleged  witches,  — 
or,  if  so,  they  were  doing  it  in  a purely  incidental  way.  Their 
object  was  quite  definite  and  unconcealed.  They  were  war- 
ring against  the  Puritans  88  and  the  Roman  Catholics,  whom 
they  regarded  as  foes  to  Church  and  State.  Puritan 
preachers  and  Roman  Catholic  priests  both  professed  to  cast 
out  devils.  In  Bancroft’s  eyes  these  were  absurd  pretensions. 
Yet  the  people  and  many  of  the  clergy  were  much  impressed. 
There  was  danger  ahead,  so  the  Bishop  thought.  A vigorous 
campaign  was  necessary.  But  the  campaign  was  political 
and  ecclesiastical,  not  humanitarian.  Its  aim  was  not  to 
save  witches,  but  to  crush  exorcists.89 

Here  is  a significant  bit  of  evidence  on  this  point.  In 
1602  Mary  Glover,  the  daughter  of  a merchant  in  Thames 
Street,  had  weird  seizures,  which  she  attributed  to  the  malign 
spells  of  Elizabeth  Jackson.  The  neighbors  were  eager  to 
prosecute,  but  a physician  informed  Chief  Justice  Anderson 
that  “the  maid  did  counterfeit.”  Anderson  directed  Sir 
John  Croke  (Recorder  of  London)  to  summon  the  girl  to 
his  chamber  in  the  Temple  and  test  the  matter.  Croke 


88  “ Phantastical  giddy-headed  Puritans”  Archbishop  Matthew  Hutton  of  York 
calls  them  in  a letter  to  Whitgift,  Oct.  1,  1603  (Strype’s  Life  of  Whitgift,  1718,  p. 
570). 

89  The  exorcisms  of  the  Jesuit  Edmunds  (alias  Weston)  and  his  associates  in 
1585  and  1586  were  similarly  attacked  by  Bancroft  and  Harsnet.  See  Harsnet’s 
famous  diatribe,  A Declaration  of  Egregious  Popish  Impostures,  1603  (2d  edition, 
1605).  The  Roman  Catholics  were  no  more  convinced  in  this  case  than  the  Puritans 
were  in  that  of  Darrel  (see  the  references  to  Yepez  and  others  in  Mr.  T.  G.  Law’s 
article  on  Devil-Hunting  in  Elizabethan  England,  in  the  Nineteenth  Century  for 
March,  1894,  35.  397  ff.).  On  Sir  George  Peckham,  who  was  involved  in  this  affair, 
see  Merrimam,  American  Historical  Review,  17,  492  ff.  Compare  Sir  George 
Courthop  on  the  Nuns  of  Loudun  (Memoirs,  Camden  Miscellany,  11.  106-109) ; 
see  also  Evelyn’s  Diary,  August  5,  1670. 

Darrel’s  opponents  did  their  best  to  stigmatize  his  principles  and  practices  with 
regard  to  demoniacal  possession  as  identical  with  those  of  the  Roman  Catholic 
Church.  Thus  Deacon  and  Walker,  speaking  of  Darrel,  inform  their  readers  that 
“he  hath  for  a season  (though  feare  and  shame  enforceth  him  now  to  pluck  in  his 
head)  very  prowdlie  ietted  from  countrie  to  countrie  like  a pettie  new  Pope  among 
his  owne  Cardinals;  yea  and  that  also  in  his  pontificalities,  portrayed  and  con- 
tinued after  the  new-found  popelike  cut”  (Summarie  Answere,  1601,  Address  to  the 
Reader). 


30  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


did  so  in  1603,  having  both  the  maid  and  the  witch  present, 
with  divers  neighbors  and  certain  ministers.  He  was  con- 
vinced, by  various  drastic  tests,  that  there  was  no  imposture, 
and  committed  Mother  Jackson  to  Newgate.  At  the  Re- 
corder’s instance,  several  ministers  undertook  to  relieve  the 
girl  by  fasting  and  prayer.  They  were  completely  successful. 
One  of  them,  Lewis  Hughes,  was  despatched  to  Bishop  Ban- 
croft with  the  tidings.  He  was  not  well  received.  “I  . . . 
could  have  no  audience,”  he  writes,  “and  for  my  paines  I was 
called  Rascall  and  varlot,  and  sent  to  the  Gatehouse,  where 
hee  kept  me  foure  moneths.”  90  But  Mother  Jackson  was 
arraigned  and  convicted  in  due  course.  Bancroft,  we  ob- 
serve, was  certain  that  this  was  not  demoniacal  possession, 
and  he  imprisoned  the  exorciser.  But  he  made  no  effort, 
so  far  as  we  can  learn,  to  rescue  the  witch.  He  left  her  to 
the  courts  with  a good  conscience. 

This  episode  fell  just  after  the  so-called  exposure  of  Darrel. 
The  date  makes  it  instructive.  The  Recorder,  we  note,  was 
still  a believer  in  possession,  despite  the  arguments  of  Ban- 
croft’s literary  bureau,  and  so  were  many  (perhaps  most)  of 
the  clergy.  Indeed,  we  must  not  too  hastily  assume  that 
all  the  bishops  even  were  ready  to  subscribe  to  Bancroft’s 
extreme  tenets.  Take  the  case  of  Thomas  Harrison,  the 
Boy  of  Northwich,  in  Cheshire.  His  fits  began  in  1600  or 
1601  and  lasted  a year  or  twro.  He  was  kept  for  ten  days  in 
the  Bishop  of  Chester’s  palace  and  carefully  watched,  but 
no  fraud  was  detected.  The  Bishop  (Richard  Vaughan) 
and  three  other  commissioners  issued  an  order  that,  “for 
[his]  ease  and  deliverance”  from  “his  grievous  afflictions,” 
public  prayers  should  be  offered  for  him  in  the  parish  church 
“before  the  congregation  so  oft  as  the  same  assembleth.” 
They  delegated  seven  clergymen  to  visit  him  by  turns,  and 
“to  use  their  discretions  by  private  prayer  and  fasting,  for 
the  ease  and  comfort  of  the  afflicted.”  Some  held,  this 

90  Certaine  Grievances,  1641,  p.  20.  See  George  Sinclair,  Satan’s  Invisible  World 
Discovered,  1685,  Relation  XII  (reprint,  1871,  pp.  95-100;  cf.  Ferguson,  Publi- 
cations of  the  Edinburgh  Bibliographical  Society,  3.  56-57) ; Commission  on  His- 
torical MSS.,  8th  Report,  Appendix,  Part  i.,  p.  228.  An  account  of  the  affair,  by 
George  Swan,  was  published  in  1603,  under  the  title,  A True  and  Brief  Report,  etc. 
On  Lewis  Hughes  see  Kittredge,  George  Stirk,  Minister  (reprinted  from  the  Publi- 
cations of  the  Colonial  Society  of  Massachusetts),  1910,  pp.  18-21. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


31 


document  informs  us,  “that  the  child  [was]  really  possessed 
of  an  uncleane  spirit.”  This  Bishop  Vaughan  and  the  other 
commissioners  doubted.  But  they  did  not  think  he  was 
shamming.  They  had  “seene  the  bodily  affliction  of  the 
said  child,”  and  observed  in  sundry  fits  very  strange  effects 
and  operations,  they  tell  us,  “either  proceeding  of  natural  vn- 
knowne  causes,  or  of  some  diabolical  practise.”  91  And  Har- 
vey, one  of  the  clergymen  appointed  by  the  Bishop  to  fast 
and  pray,  wrote  to  a friend  that  nothing  like  the  “passions 
[ i.e . sufferings],  behavior,  and  speeches”  of  the  boy  had  “ever 
come  under  his  observation  or  occurred  in  his  reading.” 
“Few  that  have  seene  the  variety  of  his  fits,  but  they  thinke 
the  divell  hath  the  disposing  of  his  body.  Myselfe  have 
divers  times  seene  him,  and  such  things  in  him  as  are  im- 
possible to  proceed  from  any  humane  creature.  The  matter 
hath  affected  our  whole  country.  The  Divines  with  us 
generally  hold,  that  the  child  is  really  possessed.”  92  A con- 
temporary memorandum  assures  us  that  once,  when  the 
Bishop  was  praying  with  him,  “the  Boy  was  so  outragious, 
that  he  flew  out  of  his  bed,  and  so  frighted  the  Bishops  men, 
that  one  of  them  fell  into  a sown,  and  the  Bishop  was  glad 
to  lay  hold  on  the  boy,  who  ramped  at  the  Window  to  have 
gotten  out.”  93 

Joseph  Hall,  afterwards  Bishop  of  Exeter  (1627)  and  of 
Norwich  (1641),  in  disputing  with  a Belgian  priest  in  1605, 
asserted  roundly  that  “in  our  church,  we  had  manifest  proofs 
of  the  ejection  of  devils  by  fasting  and  prayer.”  94  Hall 
was  a firm  believer  in  witchcraft  and  approved  of  the  statute 
of  1604. 95 


91  Darrel,  Replie,  1602,  p.  21.  92  Darrel,  pp.  21-22. 

93  John  Bruen’s  memoranda,  in  William  Hinde’s  Life  of  John  Bruen  (born  1560, 
died  1625),  in  Samuel  Clarke,  Marrow  of  Ecclesiastical  History,  Part  ii.,  Book  ii., 
1675,  p.  95.  Bruen  (who  was  a Cheshire  man)  was  an  eyewitness  of  the  boy’s 
fits,  and  his  notes,  as  excerpted  by  Hinde,  give  a good  idea  of  his  ravings  (pp.  94- 
96).  The  boy  cried  out  against  “the  witch,”  but  I do  not  find  that  anybody  was 
brought  to  trial. 

94  Autobiography,  Works,  ed.  Hall  (1837),  1.  xxi.  Hall  may  have  had  in  mind 
the  case  reported  by  Bishop  Parkhurst  in  a letter  to  Bullinger,  June  29,  1574 
(Zurich  Letters,  ed.  Hastings  Robinson,  1842,  No.  118,  translation,  p.  118,  original, 
p.  178). 

96  Works,  6.  136-137;  7.  245-246;  Contemplations,  Works,  ed.  1628,  pp.  1134- 
1135. 


32  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


And  now  we  will  go  back  a few  years  in  order  to  see  what 
the  bishops  and  the  judges  thought,  and  how  they  acted, 
when  a case  combining  demoniacal  possession  with  witch- 
craft was  not  complicated  by  Puritan  or  Roman  Catholic 
exorcism.  Let  us  examine,  as  briefly  as  may  be,  the  cele- 
brated case  of  the  Witches  of  Warboys.  The  story  has  been 
told  again  and  again,  but  its  actual  bearing  on  the  history  of 
English  witch  prosecution  has  never  been  pointed  out. 
The  Warboys  case  lasted  from  1589,  when  the  fits  of  the 
afflicted  persons  began,  until  1593,  when  the  witches  were 
hanged. 

Robert  Throckmorton,  Esquire,  was  a Huntingdonshire 
gentleman  of  excellent  family  and  connections.  He  was 
of  Ellington,  but  had  removed  to  Warboys  shortly  before 
our  story  begins.  Both  these  places  are  near  the  county 
town,  and  therefore  not  far  from  Cambridge.  The  disturb- 
ance began  in  November,  1589,  when  Jane,  Mr.  Throck- 
morton's daughter,  a girl  of  about  ten  years,  was  attacked 
with  violent  hysteria.  In  her  fits,  she  called  out  against 
Mother  Samuel,  an  aged  neighbor.  Two  first-rate  physi- 
cians of  Cambridge  were  consulted,  Dr.  Barrow  (a  friend  of 
Mr.  Throckmorton's)  and  Master  Butler.  The  latter  was, 
I suppose,  William  Butler  (1535-1618)  of  Clare  Hall,  of 
whom  Aubrey  tells  several  amusing  anecdotes.  Aubrey 
informs  us  that  he  “never  tooke  the  degree  of  Doctor,  though 
he  was  the  greatest  physician  of  his  time.”  96  Both  Barrow 
and  Butler  were  baffled,  and  Barrow  ascribed  the  fits  to 
witchcraft,  remarking  that  he  himself  “had  some  experience 
of  the  mallice  of  some  witches.”  97  This  speech  is  worth 
noting,  for  it  throws  light  on  the  state  of  mind  of  university 
men.  Within  two  months,  Mistress  Jane’s  four  sisters  — 
ranging  in  age  from  nine  to  fifteen  years  — were  similarly 
attacked,  and  they  all  cried  out  against  Mother  Samuel. 
This  affliction  lasted  until  April,  1593,  or  about  three  years 
and  a half.  In  the  interval  six  or  seven  womenservants 
(for  the  Throckmorton  menage  was  of  course  somewhat 
unstable)  suffered  from  just  such  fits,  — and  also  the  wife 
of  one  of  the  girls’  maternal  uncles,  Mr.  John  Pickering  of 

96  Brief  Lives,  ed.  Clark,  1.  138. 

97  The  Witches  of  Warboys,  1593,  sig.  B2  r°. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


33 


Ellington.  Mother  Samuel  was  believed  to  be  the  cause  of 
it  all.  Yet  the  children’s  parents  acted  with  exemplary 
caution.  They  had  no  wish  to  prosecute  Mother  Samuel, 
but  treated  her  kindly  and  gave  their  attention  to  caring 
for  the  girls  and  urging  her  to  confess.  Her  confession  and 
repentance,  it  was  hoped,  would  put  an  end  to  the  fits. 

About  Christmas,  1592,  Mother  Samuel  admitted  her 
guilt.  Even  then  there  was  no  immediate  thought  of  bring- 
ing her  to  justice.  She  was  in  great  distress  of  mind,  and 
both  Mr.  Throckmorton  and  Dr.  Dorington,  the  parson  of 
Warboys,  exerted  themselves  to  give  her  Christian  conso- 
lation as  a repentant  sinner.  However,  she  almost  imme- 
diately retracted,  whereupon  Mr.  Throckmorton,  losing 
patience  at  last,  took  her  before  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln  (Will- 
iam Chaderton)  and  certain  justices.  She  again  made  ad- 
mission of  guilt.  Soon  after  the  girls  fell  into  their  fits 
afresh,  and  they  now  accused  the  old  woman  of  the  death 
of  Lady  Cromwell,  the  second  wife  of  Sir  Henry  Cromwell 
of  Hinchinbrook,  the  great  landowner  of  those  parts,  known 
for  his  splendor  as  the  Golden  Knight. 

The  Cromwells  and  the  Throckmortons  were  friends,  and, 
in  September,  1590,  Lady  Cromwell,  being  then  at  Ramsey, 
only  two  miles  from  Warboys,  had  made  a call  of  sympathy 
on  the  family.  Mother  Samuel,  who  lived  next  door,  had 
been  summoned.  The  Samuels  were  Sir  Henry’s  tenants, 
and  the  lady  spoke  roughly  to  the  old  woman,  accusing  her 
of  witchcraft,  and  snatched  off  her  cap  and  clipped  off  a 
lock  of  her  hair.  This  she  told  Mistress  Throckmorton  to 
burn.  Mother  Samuel  uttered  some  words  which,  when 
later  remembered,  passed  for  the  damnum  minatum.  That 
night  Lady  Cromwell  was  strangely  attacked,  and  she  died 
after  an  illness  of  a year  and  a quarter,  — that  is,  about  the 
beginning  of  1592.  Nobody  appears  to  have  connected 
Mother  Samuel  with  her  death  until,  in  1593,  the  afflicted 
girls  charged  her  with  it  in  their  ravings.  They  extended 
the  accusation  to  John  Samuel,  her  husband,  and  Agnes, 
her  daughter.  All  three  were  tried  at  Huntingdon  before 
Justice  Fenner  on  April  5th,  1593.  Mother  Samuel  confessed, 
and,  with  her  husband  and  daughter,  was  hanged,  according 
to  the  Elizabethan  statute.  There  was  no  doubt  of  their 


34  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


guilt  in  anybody’s  mind.  Mother  Samuel  herself  thought 
the  girls  bewitched,  and  old  Samuel  was  finally  convinced 
that  his  wife  was  guilty. 

Several  causes  combined  to  make  this  the  most  momentous 
witch-trial  that  had  ever  occurred  in  England.  The  long 
continuance  of  the  phenomena  and  the  station  of  the  victims 
were  alone  sufficient  to  give  the  affair  wide  currency.  The 
family  was  connected  with  many  persons  of  importance. 
Mr.  Robert  Throckmorton  was  related  to  the  Warwickshire 
and  the  Gloucestershire  Throckmortons.  One  of  his  first 
cousins,  also  named  Robert,  lived  at  Brampton,  Northants, 
close  by,  and  often  witnessed  the  girls’  fits.  The  girls’ 
maternal  uncle,  Mr.  (afterwards  Sir)  Gilbert  Pickering  of 
Tichmarsh,  and  his  brothers,  John  and  Henry,  were  deeply 
interested,  and  gave  evidence  at  the  assizes.  So  did  Dr. 
Francis  Dorington,  the  Warboys  rector,  who  was  the  hus- 
band of  Mr.  Throckmorton’s  sister.  Robert  Poulter,  vicar 
of  Brampton,  another  witness,  was  also  connected  with  the 
family.98  Francis  Cromwell,  Sir  Henry’s  brother,  was  one 
of  the  justices  to  whom  Mother  Samuel  confessed.  The 
Cromwells  were  among  the  best-known  commoners  in  the 
kingdom.  Dr.  Dorington’s  brother  John,  a Londoner, 
visited  the  children  in  their  attacks,  and  of  course  he  talked 
of  the  affair  in  the  capital. 

The  connections  with  Cambridge  were  also  very  intimate. 
The  physicians  consulted  by  Mr.  Throckmorton,  as  we  have 
noticed,  lived  there,  and  they  were  both  university  men. 
Dr.  Francis  Dorington,  the  parson  of  Warboys,  who  had 
married  Mr.  Throckmorton’s  sister,  and  Thomas  Nutt,  the 
vicar  of  Ellington,  were  also  Cambridge  graduates.99  Both 
were  deeply  interested  in  the  case,  and  gave  evidence  at  the 
trial.  Henry  Pickering,  one  of  the  children’s  maternal 

98  See  the  Throckmorton  pedigree  (drawn  up  by  Robert  Throckmorton  himself 
in  1613)  in  Charles’s  Visitation  of  the  County  of  Huntingdon,  ed.  Ellis,  Camden 
Society,  1849,  pp.  123-124,  and  the  Pulter  pedigree,  in  the  same,  p.  101.  Cf. 
the  Pickering  pedigree  in  Bridges,  Northamptonshire,  2.  383-385. 

99  Dorington  was  A.B.  1555,  Fellow  of  St.  Catherine’s  College  1558,  A.M.  1559, 
S.  T.  B.  Queen’s  College  1565,  S.T.P.  1575.  Nutt  matriculated  at  Peterhouse 
1568;  he  was  A.B.  1573,  A.M.  1577.  For  this  information,  as  well  as  the  uni- 
versity record  of  Henry  and  Thomas  Pickering  (the  editor  of  Perkins’s  Discourse), 
I am  indebted  to  the  kindness  of  the  Registrary,  Dr.  J.  N.  Keynes,  and  the  good 
offices  of  Professor  Skeat. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


35 


uncles,  was  at  Christ’s  College  when  the  fits  began.100  He 
not  only  visited  the  Throckmortons  in  1590,  “being  then 
a Scholler  of  Cambridge,”  and  stayed  there  three  or  four 
days,  but  he  took  two  other  scholars  of  his  acquaintance  to 
see  the  witch,  and  we  have  a pretty  full  account  of  the  inter- 
view. Mr.  Pickering  was  fully  persuaded  that  Goody 
Samuel  was  a witch.  Being  somewhat  moved,  he  told  her 
that  “there  was  no  way  to  preuent  the  iudgements  of  God, 
but  by  her  confession  and  repentance : which  if  she  did  not 
in  time,  he  hoped  one  day  to  see  her  burned  at  a stake,  and 
he  himselfe  would  bring  fire  and  wood,  and  the  children  should 
blowe  the  coales.”  101  This  Mr.  Henry  Pickering  became, 
in  1597,  rector  of  Aldwincle  All  Saints,  in  Northamptonshire. 
His  daughter  Mary  married  Erasmus  Dryden  (son  of  Sir 
Erasmus),  and  became  the  mother  of  the  illustrious  poet, 
who  was  born  at  the  parsonage  house  of  Aldwincle  All  Saints 
in  1631. 102  Thus  it  appears  that  the  five  tormented  Throck- 
morton girls  were  first  cousins  of  the  poet’s  mother,  and  that 
Mrs.  Throckmorton  was  his  great-aunt.  We  note  that 
William  Perkins,  whose  treatise  on  witchcraft  we  have  exam- 
ined, was  a fellow  of  Christ’s  College  during  most  of  the  time 
when  these  fits  were  going  on.  It  is  curious,  too,  that  the 
publisher  of  Perkins’s  posthumous  treatise  (another  Cam- 
bridge man)  was  Thomas  Pickering,103  doubtless  a relative, 
though  we  cannot  be  certain  of  that.  Both  Sir  Henry  Crom- 
well and  his  son  Oliver  had  been  at  the  university. 

The  Warboys  case,  then,  demonstrably  produced  a deep 

100  Henry  Pickering  was  a younger  son  of  Sir  Gilbert  Pickering,  Knight,  of 
Tichmarsh,  Northamptonshire.  He  matriculated  at  Christ’s  College,  as  a Pensioner, 
March  16  1582-3,  was  A.B.  1586,  A.M.  1590,  and  incorporated  at  Oxford  1593 
(see  note  99,  above). 

i°i  Witches  of  Warboys,  sig.  E3. 

102  The  year  when  Pickering  became  rector  of  Aldwincle  All  Saints,  and  the 
date  of  his  death  (1637,  aged  75),  were  first  correctly  given  (from  his  tombstone) 
by  Mr.  W.  D.  Christie  in  the  Globe  Edition  of  Dryden’s  Poetical  Works,  1870,  p. 
xvi.,  note  f. 

103  Thomas  Pickering  was  admitted  at  Emmanuel  College  as  a Pensioner  in  1589. 
He  was  A.B.  1592,  A.M.  and  Fellow  1596,  B.D.  1603.  He  became  Vicar  of  Finch- 
ingfield,  Essex,  March  9,  1605-6,  and  died  there  in  1625.  For  these  facts  I am 
indebted  to  the  Registrary  of  the  University,  Dr.  J.  N.  Keynes,  and  to  Mr.  J.  B. 
Peace,  Bursar  of  Emmanuel.  His  marriage  license  was  issued  May  4,  1611; 
his  will  was  proved  1627,  and  administration  was  granted  March  13,  1625-6 
(Transactions  of  the  Essex  Archaeological  Society,  New  Series,  6.  299). 


36  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


and  lasting  impression  on  the  class  that  made  laws.  The 
gentlemen  concerned  were  not  ignorant  country  squires  in 
the  remote  districts ; they  were  intelligent,  well-educated 
men,  in  close  contact  with  one  of  the  universities  and  with 
the  capital. 

Nor  was  the  impression  allowed  to  die  out.  It  was  per- 
petuated in  two  ways  — by  a remarkable  book  and  by  a 
permanent  foundation.  The  presiding  judge,  Edward  Fen- 
ner, was  so  much  struck  by  what  he  had  seen  and  heard  (for 
the  children  had  their  fits  in  his  presence)  that  he  joined 
with  others  to  further  the  publication  of  a narrative,  — The 
Most  Strange  and  Admirable  Diseoverie  of  the  Three  Witches 
of  Warboys,  — which  was  printed  in  London  in  1593.  Full 
notes  had  been  kept  from  the  outset  (as  befitted  the  intelli- 
gence and  education  of  the  families  concerned)  and  these 
were  used  by  the  author.  This  is  no  mere  catchpenny  tract. 
It  is  a careful  and  temperate  report  of  the  girls’  malady  from 
first  to  last.  Nothing  comparable  to  it,  considered  as  a 
report  on  a long-continued  case  of  epidemic  hysteria,  had 
ever  appeared  in  England.  The  details,  at  which  modern 
writers  on  witchcraft  are  wont  to  jeer,  are  no  more  ridiculous 
than  the  details  in  recent  and  esteemed  treatises  on  la  grande 
hysterie,  or  on  multiple  personality.  That  it  kept  the  War- 
boys  case  alive  long  after  the  accession  of  James  I.  is  certain, 
for  Dr.  John  Cotta,  in  1616  and  again  in  1624,  refers  to  the 
“Treatise  of  the  Witches  of  Warbozys”  as  authoritative.104 
He  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  Throckmorton  girls  were 
bewitched.105 

Finally,  Sir  Henry  Cromwell  took  effectual  measures  for 


101  Triall  of  Witch-craft,  1616,  p.  77. 

105  Samuel  Harsnet,  when  in  full  cry  after  Darrel,  did  not  venture  to  attack  the 
Warboys  case  directly.  True,  he  refers  slightingly  to  the  printed  narrative  as  a 
“silly  book,’’  but  in  the  same  breath  he  suggests  that  one  of  Darrel’s  patients  had 
taken  a leaf  out  of  it.  And  Darrel,  in  replying,  taunts  Harsnet  with  not  daring  to 
assail  the  case  openly.  That  Mr.  Throckmorton’s  children,  says  Darrel,  “were 
tormented  by  the  diuell,  even  5.  of  his  daughters,  it  is  notoriously  knowne,  and 
so  generally  receaued  for  truth,  as  the  Dis[coverer ].  himselfe  [i.e.  Harsnet]  dareth  not 
deny  it,  though  fayne  he  would,  as  appeareth  by  his  nibling  at  them”  (Detection 
of  Harshnet,  1600,  p.  39;  cf.  pp.  20-22,  36,  40).  And  again,  he  does  not  hesitate 
to  declare  that  Harsnet  refrained  from  accusing  the  Throckmorton  girls  of  counter- 
feiting because  he  did  not  dare:  “He  thought  it  best  and  meet  for  his  safety 
becaus  they  were  the  children  of  an  Esquire,  not  to  say  so  in  plaine  tearmes”  (p.  21) . 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


37 


perpetuating  the  impression  made  by  the  long-continued 
phenomena,  the  trial,  and  the  book.  Certain  goods  and 
chattels  of  the  executed  felons  were  forfeited  to  him  as  lord 
of  the  manor.  He  disdained  to  keep  the  money  and  wished 
to  devote  it  to  public  uses.  Hence  he  established  an  annual 
sermon  at  Huntingdon,  to  be  delivered  by  a fellow  of  his  own 
college,  Queen’s  of  Cambridge.  The  appointee  was  to 
“preache  and  invaye  against  the  detestable  practice,  synne, 
and  offence  of  witchcraft,  inchantment,  charm,  and  sorcereye.” 
The  sermon  was  maintained  until  1812,  but  toward  the  end 
its  burden  was  turned  to  the  explosion  of  the  old  belief.106 

And  now,  when  we  come  to  apply  what  we  have  observed 
of  the  state  of  educated  public  opinion  and  to  estimate  its 
presumable  effect  on  the  legislators  of  1604,  who  passed  the 
revised  statute,  we  are  struck  with  a fact  which  all  investi- 
gators have  overlooked  or  ignored.  Two  gentlemen  were 
sitting  in  the  House  of  Commons  who  had  the  strongest  personal 
interest  in  the  Warboys  case.  The  Samuels  had  been  hanged, 
not  for  tormenting  the  Throckmorton  girls,107  but  for  be- 
witching Lady  Cromwell  to  death.  As  we  run  our  eye  down 
the  list  of  Members  of  Parliament,  it  is  arrested  by  two 
names,  — Sir  Oliver  Cromwell  and  Henry  Cromwell,  — one 
the  member  for  the  County  of  Huntingdon,  the  other  for 
the  borough.  These  were  sons  of  that  Sir  Henry  whose  wife 
had  died  (as  all  believed)  from  Mother  Samuel’s  arts,  and 
who  had  founded  a sermon  in  perpetual  memory  of  the 
murder. 

Both  Sir  Oliver  and  Henry  Cromwell  might  therefore  be 
presumed  to  have  an  effective  knowledge  of  the  case.  But 
we  are  not  left  to  conjecture.  Their  uncle,  Francis  Crom- 
well, was  one  of  the  justices  to  whom  Goody  Samuel  con- 
fessed.108 Mr.  Henry  Cromwell  himself  had  visited  the 
Throckmorton  house  with  one  of  Sir  Henry’s  men  and  had 
observed  two  of  the  girls  in  their  fits.109  This  was  in  1593, 
shortly  before  the  actual  trial,  and  after  the  girls  had  begun 
to  accuse  the  Samuels  of  Lady  Cromwell’s  murder.  As  for 


106  J.  H.  Gray,  Queen’s  College,  1899,  pp.  128-129. 

107  That  offence,  under  the  Elizabethan  statute,  was  punishable  only  by  im- 
prisonment and  the  pillory,  for  none  of  the  girls  had  died. 

108  Sig.  I r°;  cf.  sig.  P 2 v°. 


103  Sig.  N3. 


38  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


Sir  Oliver,  his  wife  had  accompanied  her  mother-in-law  on 
the  fatal  visit  to  the  Throckmortons,  and  had  been  present 
at  her  interview  with  Goody  Samuel.  That  night.  Lady 
Cromwell  was  “strangly  tormented  in  her  sleep,  by  a cat 
(as  she  imagined)  which  mother  Samuel  had  sent  vnto  her.” 
Mistress  Oliver  Cromwell  was  sleeping  in  the  same  bed 
(her  husband  being  from  home),  and  was  awakened  by  the 
“strugling  and  striuing  of  the  Lady  . . . and  mournfull 
noise,  which  shee  made  speaking  to  the  cat,  and  to  mother 
Samuel.”  Mistress  Oliver  roused  her  mother-in-law,  who 
told  her  all  about  her  dream.  Lady  Cromwell  had  no  more 
sleep  that  night,  and  soon  after  sickened,  as  already  told.110 
We  may  be  sure  that  when  Mr.  Oliver  Cromwell  returned,  he 
was  put  in  full  possession  of  both  ladies’  experiences.  Surely 
neither  Sir  Oliver  Cromwell  nor  his  brother  stood  in  need  of 
instruction  in  the  witch  dogma  from  James  I.,  or  required 
any  royal  influence  to  persuade  them  to  vote  for  the  statute 
of  1604. 

It  is  worth  while  to  follow  the  clue  a little  farther,  and  to 
glance  at  the  parliamentary  history  of  the  statute.  Most 
writers  have  been  quite  innocent  of  any  knowledge  that  it 
even  had  such  a history.  Yet  there  it  stands  in  the  Lords’ 
and  Commons’  Journals,  and  an  instructive  history  it  is. 

The  bill  originated  in  the  House  of  Lords.  The  first  read- 
ing took  place  on  March  27,  1604.  On  the  29th  it  was  read 
a second  time  and  referred  to  a committee  consisting  of  six 
earls,  sixteen  other  peers,  and  twelve  bishops.  The  com- 
mittee was  to  have  the  most  expert  advice  conceivable,  and 
to  that  end  an  imposing  array  of  legal  talent,  learning, 
and  experience  was  requested  “to  attend  the  Lords”  in 
their  deliberations.  Here  is  the  list : the  Chief  Justice  of 
Common  Pleas  (Anderson),  the  Chief  Baron  of  the  Ex- 
chequer (Sir  William  Peryam),  two  justices  of  the  King’s 
Bench  (Sir  Christopher  Yelverton  and  David  Williams), 
Serjeant  Croke,  the  Attorney-General  (Coke),  and  Sir  John 
Tindall,  a distinguished  ecclesiastical  lawyer.  Nor  was  all 
this  a mere  flourish.  The  committee  and  its  eminent  coun- 
sel took  their  duties  seriously.  They  rejected  the  draft  that 


110  Sig.  E 3 r°. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


39 


had  been  referred  to  them,  and,  on  the  2d  of  April,  the  com- 
mittee reported  a new  bill,  “framed  by  the  committee.” 
This  was  brought  into  the  Lords  by  the  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land. It  received  certain  amendments,  and,  on  May  8th, 
after  the  third  reading,  was  passed  and  sent  to  the  House  of 
Commons.  Here,  too,  there  was  careful  deliberation.  On 
May  11th  the  bill  had  its  first  reading ; and  on  the  26th  it  was 
read  a second  time  and  referred  to  a committee  of  seventeen, 
including  the  Recorder  of  London  and  two  serjeants-at-law 
(Hobart  and  Shirley),  which  was  directed  to  meet  on  the 
first  of  June  in  the  Middle  Temple  Hall.  On  the  5th,  Sir 
Thomas  Ridgeway,  for  the  committee,  reported  the  bill 
“with  alterations  and  amendments.”  On  June  7th  it  came 
up  for  the  third  reading,  was  passed  as  amended,  and  on 
the  9th  was  sent  up  to  the  Lords.111 

This  bare  statement  of  recorded  facts  disposes  of  the  myth 
that  King  James  was  the  author  or  the  father  of  the  statute 
which  has  so  long  been  associated  with  his  name  and  fame. 
Whether  the  measure  was  good  or  bad,  — whether  its  re- 
sults were  great  or  small,  — the  Lords  and  Commons  of 
England,  and  not  the  king,  must  shoulder  the  responsi- 
bility.112 And  it  is  in  complete  accord  with  what  we  should 
expect  from  the  caution  with  which  both  houses  proceeded 
and  the  care  which  their  committees  took,  that  the  statute, 
when  finally  it  left  the  hands  of  Parliament,  was  not  really 
a new  law  at  all,  but  simply  a modification  and  extension 
of  the  statute  of  Elizabeth. 

Two  names  on  the  Lords’  Committee  catch  the  eye  imme- 
diately, — the  Earl  of  Derby  and  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln. 
Ten  years  before,  in  1594,  a short  time  after  the  witches  of 
Warboys  were  hanged,  Ferdinando,  fifth  Earl  of  Derby,  had 
died  at  Latham  after  a ten  days’  illness.  The  physicians 
(he  had  four)  ascribed  his  disease  to  a surfeit  combined  with 

m Lords’  Journals,  1.  267,  269,  271,  272,  293,  294,  316 ; Commons’  Journals, 
1.  204,  207,  227,  232,  234,  236. 

112  The  object  of  the  law  was  not  to  multiply  culprits,  but  to  deter  men  from  com- 
mitting the  crime.  The  idea  that  very  great  severity  defeats  its  object  did  not  then 
obtain  among  penologists.  Take  an  example  of  the  temper  of  intelligent  men  in 
this  regard.  In  May,  1604,  William  Clopton  writes  to  Timothy  Hutton  : — “ There 
is  an  act  passed  to  take  away  the  clergie  from  stealers  of  sheep  and  oxen,  which  will 
do  much  good  ” (Hutton  Correspondence,  Surtees  Society,  1843,  p.  195). 


40  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 

over-exertion.  But  there  were  grave  suspicions  of  sorcery. 
The  earl  had  dreamed  strange  dreams ; he  had  been 
“crossed”  by  an  apparition  “with  a gastly  and  threatning 
countenance.”  An  image  of  wax  was  discovered  in  his 
bedroom.  “A  homely  Woman,  about  the  age  of  fifty  yeeres, 
was  found  mumbling  in  a corner  of  his  honours  Chamber, 
but  what  God  knoweth.”  Three  other  suspected  witches 
appear  in  the  case  at  divers  times  and  in  sundry  manners. 
The  earl  himself  “cryed  out  that  the  Doctors  laboured  in 
vaine,  because  hee  was  certainely  bewitched.”  In  the  end, 
the  opinion  seems  to  have  prevailed  that  he  died  from  natural 
causes.113  But  it  would  be  extraordinary  if  all  the  circum- 
stances had  not  made  a profound  impression  on  his  younger 
brother,  who  succeeded  him,  and  this  is  the  Earl  of  Derby 
whom  we  have  noted  in  the  Lords’  Committee  on  the  bill. 
Another  person  who  must  also  have  been  deeply  affected 
by  these  strange  happenings  was  the  Bishop  of  Chester, 
who  attended  the  dying  man.  This  was  Dr.  William  Chader- 
ton,  who  was  translated  to  Lincoln  in  1594,  and  he,  too,  sat  in 
the  Lords’  Committee. 

Henry  Percy,  Earl  of  Northumberland,  who  reported  the 
second  draft  from  the  committee,  was  a famous  student  of 
the  occult  sciences  and  was  popularly  known  as  “the  Wizard 
Earl.”  Like  Dr.  Dee,  he  believed  that  his  own  investiga- 
tions were  free  from  the  taint  of  diabolism,  but,  like  Dee, 
he  must  also  have  felt  convinced  that  there  were  others  who 
did  traffic  with  the  infernal  powers,  and  that  such  persons 
deserved  punishment. 

Henry  Howard,  Earl  of  Northampton,  another  member  of 
the  Lords’  Committee,  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  most 
learned  of  the  peers.  He  was  a firm  believer  in  the  actuality 
of  communication  between  mortals  and  wicked  spirits. 
In  his  erudite  Defensative  against  the  Poyson  of  Supposed 
Prophecies,  written  in  1582  and  1583,  he  declared  that  one 
of  the  means  “whereby  the  contagion  of  vnlawfull  Prophesies 
is  eonueyed  into  the  mindes  of  mortall  men,  is  conference 
with  damned  Spirits  or  Familiars,  as  commonly  we  call 
them.”  114  And  he  unhesitatingly  ascribed  the  clairvoyance 


113  Stow,  Chronicle,  ed.  Howe,  1631,  pp.  767-768. 


Ed.  1620,  p.  81. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


41 


of  cunning  men  and  women  to  such  revelations,  — taking 
as  an  example  their  disclosure  of  the  thief  in  a case  of  cutting 
a purse.115 

Let  us  turn  to  the  Commons’  Committee.  Here  we  find 
several  interesting  names.  Sir  Roger  Aston  had  been  Eng- 
lish resident  in  Scotland.  This  may  be  held  to  be  a two- 
edged  argument,  but  we  do  not  need  it,  for  there  are  plenty 
more.  Two  of  the  most  notoriously  witch-haunted  counties 
in  England  were  Lancaster  and  Essex.  Now,  Lancashire 
was  represented  on  the  committee  by  Sir  Richard  Moly- 
neux  of  Sefton.  As  for  Essex,  not  only  was  the  county  mem- 
ber, Sir  Francis  Barrington,  on  the  committee,  but  also  Sir 
Robert  Wroth,  who  lived  principally  at  Loughton  Hall,  in 
Essex.  He  was  a man  of  forty-odd  when  Brian  Darcey’s 
great  St.  Osyth  cases  were  tried  and  ten  witches  were  hanged 
at  Chelmsford  in  that  county.  Other  executions  at  Chelms- 
ford took  place  in  1579  116  and  1589. 117  Giffard,  we  remem- 
ber, was  an  Essex  preacher,  and  his  Dialogue,  published  in 
1593  and  reissued  in  1603,  had  urged  the  sharpening  of  the 
statute  in  the  precise  direction  which  this  parliament  took. 
Wroth  had  large  possessions  in  Middlesex  and  sat  for  that 
county.118  Now  of  the  twenty-nine  years  from  1573  to 
1601  there  were  witch-records  for  thirteen.  Serjeant  Ho- 

115  P.  85.  Bishop  Bancroft  and  the  Earl  of  Shrewsbury  were  on  the  Lords’  Commit- 
tee. The  bishop  had  been  the  leading  spirit  in  the  prosecution  of  Darrel,  and  the  earl 
had  been  present  at  the  trial.  But  this  is  no  reason  why  they  should  have  opposed 
the  statute.  As  we  have  seen,  Bancroft  was  a prosecutor  of  exorcists,  not  a pro- 
tector of  alleged  witches.  In  the  Synod  called  by  James  (which  sat  concurrently 
with  Parliament,  and  broke  up  on  July  9,  1604,  two  days  after  Parliament  rose) 
a canon  (written  by  Bancroft)  was  adopted,  forbidding  clergymen,  without  proper 
license,  “to  attempt  upon  any  pretence  whatsoever,  eyther  of  Possession  or 
Obsession,  by  fasting,  and  prayers  to  cast  out  any  Devill  or  Devills”  (Canon  72, 
Constitutions  and  Canons  of  the  Synod  of  1603,  ed.  1633;  cf.  J.  W.  Joyce,  Eng- 
land’s Sacred  Synods,  1853,  pp.  620  ff . ; Cardwell,  Synodalia,  2.  583  ff.).  This 
canon  was  in  no  wise  inconsistent  with  the  statute,  nor  can  it  have  been  so  regarded 
by  the  twelve  bishops  who  sat  on  the  Lords’  Committee.  At  all  events,  James  I. 
showed  himself  quite  as  skeptical  as  Bancroft  in  cases  of  alleged  possession  (see 
pp.  47  ff.,  below). 

116  Collier,  2 Notes  and  Queries,  12.  301 ; Arber,  Stationers’  Register,  2.  352, 
358. 

117  Arber,  2.  525;  cf.  Collier,  as  above,  p.  301. 

118  On  the  Wroth  family  see  a series  of  papers  by  Mr.  W.  C.  Waller  in  the  Trans- 
actions of  the  Essex  Archaeological  Society,  New  Series,  8.  145  ff .,  345  ff. ; 9.  1 ff. 
On  Sir  Robert  Wroth  (1540-1606)  see  especially  8.  150  ff.  His  son  Robert  (1576- 
1614,  knighted  in  1603)  was  one  of  Ben  Jonson’s  patrons  (see  8.  156  ff.). 


42  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


bart  (later  Sir  Henry)  was  likewise  a committeeman.  What 
he  thought  of  witchcraft  we  may  infer  from  his  conduct  when 
Lord  Chief  Baron  of  the  Exchequer  at  the  trial  of  Margaret 
and  Philip  ( i.e . Philippa)  Flower,  who  were  executed  in 
1619  for  bewitching  to  death  two  sons  of  the  Earl  of  Rut- 
land.119 Nobody  will  suggest  that  he  learned  his  creed  from 
James  I.  If  any  should  be  so  absurd,  we  may  balance  him 
by  Sir  Humphrey  Winch,  also  an  M.P.,  though  not  on  the 
committee,  who,  in  1619,  incurred  the  wrath  of  the  king  by 
condemning  nine  witches  to  death  in  a case  which  James 
himself  shortly  after  exposed  as  an  imposture.  We  shall 
return  to  this  in  a moment.120  There  was  a Mr.  Throck- 
morton on  the  committee.  This  was  John  Throckmorton, 
M.P.  for  Gloucestershire.  The  Throekmortons  of  that  coun- 
ty were  related  to  those  of  Huntingdonshire.  It  is  likely 
that  Mr.  John  had  felt  some  share  of  the  universal  interest 
roused  by  the  experiences  of  his  distant  kinswomen  of  War- 
boys.  The  Recorder  of  London  also  sat  on  the  Commons’ 
Committee.  This  was  Henry  Montagu,121  afterwards  Chief 
Justice  of  the  King’s  Bench  (1616)  and  Earl  of  Manchester 
(1626).  He  was  of  Christ’s  College,  Cambridge,  where  he 
had  been  a younger  contemporary  of  William  Perkins,  whose 
strong  advocacy  of  more  stringent  laws  against  witchcraft 
we  have  already  noted.  Later,  he  was  a patron  of  Thomas 
Cooper,  whose  book  about  witchcraft  we  have  examined.122 
James  Montagu,  who  preached  Perkins’s  funeral  sermon, 
was  his  younger  brother.123  Their  father,  Sir  Edward  Mon- 
tagu, was  likewise  on  the  Commons’  Committee.  Can  there 
be  any  doubt  of  the  opinions  of  this  family  on  the  subject 
of  witchcraft?  Must  we  look  to  James  I.  as  the  source  of 
their  views  ? Finally,  we  note  with  peculiar  interest  that 
the  bill  was  reported,  with  amendments,  from  the  committee 
to  the  House  by  Sir  Thomas  Ridgeway,  of  Devon,  before 
whom,  in  1601  and  1602,  were  taken  an  extraordinary  series 

119  See  pp.  59-60,  below.  120  See  pp.  57-59,  below. 

121  He  became  Recorder  in  1603  (Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1603- 
1610,  pp.  10,  14 ; cf.  Foss,  Judges  of  England,  6.  167  ff. ; Peile,  Biographical  Regis- 
ter of  Christ’s  College,  1910,  1.  173). 

m Life  of  Cooper  in  Dictionary  of  National  Biography. 

123  See  p.  21,  above.  Cf.  Peile,  Biographical  Register  of  Christ’s  College,  1910, 
1.  181. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


43 


of  examinations  accusing  the  Tre visard  family  of  witch- 
craft.124 

It  is  time  to  study  the  advisory  board  of  legal  experts 
who  were  attached  to  the  Lords’  Committee  on  this  most 
earnestly  debated  bill.  Three  of  these  attract  our  particular 
attention,  Chief  Justice  Anderson,  Serjeant  Croke,  and  Coke, 
then  Attorney-General. 

Sir  Edmund  Anderson  had  been  chief  justice  for  twenty- 
two  years.  He  knew  all  about  the  workings  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan statute.  At  first  sight  one  might  think  him  opposed 
to  witch  prosecution,  for  he  had  taken  a leading  part  in 
“exposing”  Darrel,  and  he  had  a lively  sense  of  the  danger 
of  popular  excitement  to  the  innocent  in  such  matters.  But 
a moment’s  thought  will  set  us  right.  Perkins  and  Giffard 
and  Dr.  Cotta  — nay,  James  himself,  as  we  shall  see  pres- 
ently 125  — thought  that  judges  ought  to  be  very  careful 
to  sift  the  evidence  and  protect  the  innocent,  but  none  of 
them  doubted  that  a witch  whose  guilt  was  proved  ought  to 
be  condemned.  So  the  majority  of  civilized  men  to-day 
believe  in  the  wisdom  and  righteousness  of  the  death  pen- 
alty for  a certain  grade  of  crime,  but  all  are  agreed  that  care 
should  be  taken  to  clear  the  innocent.  An  instructive  ex- 
ample of  the  distinction  that  we  must  make  may  be  seen  in 
the  person  of  Sir  Edward  Bromley.  At  the  same  assizes, 
in  1612,  Bromley  presided  over  two  sets  of  witch-trials,  those 
of  the  Pendle  witches  and  those  of  the  witches  of  Salmes- 
bury.  In  the  Pendle  cases,  he  could  not  doubt  the  evidence, 
and  he  condemned  ten  to  death  with  complete  assurance  that 
he  was  doing  right.  Cotta,  himself,  in  1616,  speaks  of  the 
evidence  in  these  cases  with  regard  to  sorcery  by  means  of 
“pictures  of  waxe  ” as  “proued  ” by  “testimonies  beyond 
exception.”  126  In  the  Salmesbury  cases,  on  the  contrary, 
Bromley  saw  reason  to  suspect  the  veracity  of  the  chief  wit- 
ness for  the  prosecution,  and  followed  up  the  clue  so  well  that 
the  defendants  were  acquitted.127  Students  of  demonology 
will  not  forget  that  modern  writers  have  seen  fit  to  gird  at 
Bromley,  not  only  for  his  supposed  cruelty  and  superstition 

124  See  p.  17,  above.  125  See  pp.  48,  53,  58,  63-64,  below. 

126  Triall  of  Witch-craft,  p.  90. 

m Potts,  Wonderfull  Discoverie,  1613,  sigs.  K3-N2. 


44  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


in  condemning  the  witches  of  Pendle,  but  also  — strange  to 
say  — for  the  ground  on  which  he  first  entertained  the  sus- 
picion that  led  to  the  acquittal  of  the  other  group.  But  it 
is  hard  to  satisfy  modern  writers  on  witchcraft,  who  insist  on 
censuring  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  century  on  a basis 
of  modern  rationalism.  It  is  quite  certain  that  if  some  of 
those  who  now  sit  in  judgment  on  the  witch-prosecutors  had 
been  witch-judges,  no  defendant  would  ever  have  escaped. 

But  we  must  return  to  Chief  Justice  Anderson,  who,  as 
well  as  Sir  John  Croke,  sat  on  the  committee  of  advisers  to 
the  Lords.  Anderson  and  Croke  had  been  associated,  in 
1603,  in  the  affair  of  Mary  Glover,  which  we  have  already 
considered.  This  happened  before  the  accession  of  James. 
Croke  appears  therein  as  a devout  believer  in  both  demoni- 
acal possession  and  witchcraft,  and  there  is  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  Anderson  was  in  any  way  dissatisfied  with  his  pro- 
ceedings.128 

Now  for  Coke,  the  Attorney  General.  There  is  a new 
provision  in  the  statute  of  1604  (not  found  in  the  Elizabethan 
law)  imposing  the  death  penalty  on  any  one  who  shall  “take 
up  any  dead  man,  woman,  or  child  out  of  his,  her,  or  theire 
grave,  or  any  other  place  where  the  dead  bodie  resteth,  or 
the  skin,  bone,  or  any  other  parte  of  any  dead  person,  to  be 
imployed  or  used  in  any  manner  of  Witchcrafte,  Sorcerie, 
Charme,  or  Inchantment.”  Hutchinson  129  conjectured  that 
this  provision  was  due  to  King  James,  noting  that  such 
ghoulish  outrages  were  a part  of  the  confession  of  Agnes 
Sampson,  one  of  the  first  Scottish  witches  examined  in  the 
king’s  presence  in  1590. 130  I am  willing  to  add  to  this  guess 
whatever  support  may  be  derived  from  the  fact  that  the 
king,  in  his  Doemonologie,  more  than  once  adverts  to  the 
witches’  habit  of  “joynting,”  or  dismembering,  corpses. 131 
But,  when  all  is  said  and  done,  this  is  a poor  refuge,  in  view 
of  what  now  appears  to  be  the  history  of  the  statute,  es- 
pecially when  one  remembers  that  the  use  of  the  dead  for 
purposes  of  sorcery  dates,  not  from  the  confession  of  Agnes 

1=8  See  p.  29,  above.  129  P-  179. 

130  See  Pitcairn,  Criminal  Trials,  1.  218,  233,  237,  and  especially  239  (cf.  2.  478) ; 
Newes  from  Scotland,  Sig.  B3. 

131  Ed.  1603,  pp.  43,  58. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


45 


Sampson,  but  from  the  “backward  and  abysm  of  time.”  The 
lawmakers,  cleric  or  lay,  did  not  learn  of  this  habit  from  King 
James,  unless  they  were  so  ignorant  as  never  to  have  heard 
of  Lucan’s  Erichtho,132  whom  Marston  actually  brought  upon 
the  stage  at  about  this  very  time  in  a tragedy  which  contains 
a speech,  in  description  of  the  sorceress,  that  out-Lucans 
Lucan.133  But  we  need  not  appeal  to  the  classics.  Sir 
Edward  Kelley,  far-famed  as  Dr.  Dee’s  skryer  in  crystallo- 
mancy,  had  already  emulated  Erichtho.  Years  before, 
“vpon  a certaine  night,  in  the  Parke  of  Walton  in  le  Dale, 
in  the  county  of  Lancaster,  with  one  Paul  Waring,”  he  had 
“inuocated  some  one  of  the  infernall  regiment,  to  know  cer- 
taine passages  in  the  life,  as  also  what  might  bee  knowne 
by  the  deuils  foresight,  of  the  manner  and  time  of  the  death 
of  a noble  young  Gentleman,  as  then  in  his  wardship.” 
The  black  rites  finished,  Kelley  learned  of  the  gentleman’s 
servant  about  a poor  man’s  corpse  that  had  been  buried  in  a 
neighboring  churchyard  that  very  day.  “Hee  and  the  said 
Waring  in  treated  this  foresaid  seruant,  to  go  with  them  to 
the  graue.”  The  servant  complied,  “and  withall  did  helpe 
them  to  digge  up  the  carcase  of  the  poor  caitiffe,  whom  by 
their  incantations,  they  made  him  (or  rather  some  euill 
spiritt  through  his  Organs)  to  speake,  who  deliuered  strange 
predictions  concerning  the  said  Gentleman.”  All  that  we 
know  of  the  prodigious  Kelley  inclines  us  to  credit  him  with 
an  attempt  at  necromancy  on  this  occasion.  Weever,  who 
told  the  tale  in  1631,  had  it  from  the  servant  who  was  present, 
as  well  as  from  the  young  gentleman  to  whom  the  servant 
had  revealed  the  affair.134  It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  crime 
of  violating  graves  was  as  common  in  England  as  in  Scotland. 
It  surely  was  an  offence  quite  as  worthy  of  the  gallows  as 
sheep-stealing,  or  theft  above  the  value  of  twelvepence.  And 
it  was  natural  enough  to  insert  a clause  to  cover  it  in  the 
revised  law.  Now  Coke  was  just  the  man  to  do  this,  for  he 
knew  of  a fourteenth-century  case  which  showed  that  the  law 


132  Pharsalia,  vi.,  507  ff. 

133  Sophonisba,  act  iv.,  scene  1,  vv.  99-125  (Works,  ed.  BuLlen,  2.  290-291). 

134  John  Weever,  Ancient  Funerall  Monuments,  1631,  pp.  45-46.  Cf.  Reginald 
Scot,  bk.  xv.,  chaps.  8,  17  (ed.  1584,  pp.  401  ff.,  423  ff.) ; Baines,  History  of  Lan- 
cashire, ed.  Harland,  1.  199. 


46  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


was  imperfect  in  this  very  point,  and  he  reports  the  occur- 
rence in  his  Institutes,  in  commenting  on  this  provision  in 
the  statute  of  1G04. 

A man  was  taken  in  Southwark  with  a head  and  a face  of  a dead  man, 
and  with  a book  of  sorcery  in  his  male,  and  was  brought  into  the  king’s 
bench  before  Sir  John  Knevett 135  then  chief  justice : but  seeing  no  in- 
dictment was  against  him,  the  clerks  did  swear  him,  that  from  thence- 
forth he  should  not  be  a sorcerer,  and  was  delivered  out  of  prison,  and  the 
head  of  the  dead  man  and  the  book  of  sorcery  were  burnt  at  Tuthill  at  the 
costs  of  the  prisoner.  So  as  the  head  and  his  book  of  sorcery  had  the  same 
punishment,  that  the  sorcerer  should  have  had  by  the  ancient  law,  if  he 
had  by  his  sorcery  praied  in  aid  of  the  devil.136 

Who  was  so  likely  as  Coke  to  instruct  the  Lords’  Com- 
mittee as  to  the  defect  in  the  former  statute  in  this  regard  ? 
At  all  events,  his  exposition  of  the  statute  of  1604  shows 
how  thoroughly  he  believed  in  witchcraft,  and  leaves  no 
doubt  as  to  the  general  bearing  of  whatever  advice  he  gave 
the  committee.  Nor  need  we  quote  his  celebrated  charge 
to  the  jury  in  Mrs.  Turner’s  trial  for  the  murder  of  Overbury, 
as  we  might  otherwise  be  tempted  to  do.137  Among  the 
magical  exhibits  at  this  trial  was  a parchment  on  which 
“were  written  all  the  names  of  the  holy  Trinity;  as  also  a 
figure  in  which  was  written  this  word  Corpus,  and  upon  the 
parchment  was  fastned  a little  piece  of  the  skin  of  a man.”  138 
This  was,  it  appears,  a charm  of  Forman’s.  He  certainly 
did  not  import  it  from  Scotland  ! 139 

I think  we  may  now  regard  the  following  propositions  as 
proved : (1)  The  last  twenty  years  of  Elizabeth’s  reign 
were  a time  of  intense  and  continuous  excitement  in  the  mat- 
ter of  witchcraft,  with  repeated  trials  and  a good  many 
executions.  (2)  The  doctrine  was  not  dying  out  when  James 
came  to  the  throne.  It  was  held  with  great  tenacity,  not 
only  by  the  masses,  but  by  a vast  majority  of  the  educated 

135  Sir  John  Knyvet  was  appointed  Chief  Justice  of  the  King’s  Bench  in  1357  and 
Lord  Chancellor  in  1372  (Campbell,  Lord  Chancellors,  1846,  1.  267-268). 

136  Coke’s  Institutes,  Third  Part,  cap.  6.  See  Gentleman’s  Magazine,  1829, 
Part  ii.,  99.  515. 

137  Truth  Brought  to  Light  by  Time,  1651,  p.  140;  Egerton  Papers,  Camden 
Society,  pp.  472-473. 

138  Truth  Brought  to  Light,  p.  138. 

139  As  to  Forman,  see  pp.  49-50,  below. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


47 


and  influential,  — nobility,  country  gentry,  divines,  judges, 
and  citizens.  (3)  The  Elizabethan  law  was  generally  thought 
to  be  imperfect,  and  there  was  strong  pressure  for  new  legis- 
lation. (4)  The  statute  of  1604  was  carefully  considered  and 
fully  discussed.  It  was  not  a king’s  bill,  nor  was  it  rushed 
through  under  royal  whip  and  spur,  or  passed  out  of  com- 
plaisance to  the  new  sovereign.  There  is  no  evidence  that 
the  king  took  any  particular  interest  in  the  act.  It  reflected 
the  conscientious  opinions  of  both  Houses  of  Parliament.140 
(5)  It  followed  the  language  of  the  Elizabethan  statute  at 
almost  every  point,  though  somewhat  more  severe.  (6)  In 
its  practical  working,  however,  in  James’s  time,  the  statute 
of  1604  was  not  appreciably  severer  than  the  Elizabethan 
law. 

But  the  case  against  James  I.  as  a witch-hunter  during 
his  English  reign  is  not  merely  destitute  of  every  kind  of 
evidence  in  its  favor,  — it  has  to  meet  an  overwhelming 
array  of  direct  proof  on  the  other  side.  And  to  this  evidence 
we  must  now  pass.  It  is  quite  conclusive. 

First,  we  will  consider  certain  pardons  that  are  matters 
of  record.  The  list  is  short  — for  there  were  few  convictions 
— but  it  is  significant.141  On  April  16,  1604,  when  the  new 
statute  was  still  under  deliberation,  Christian,  the  wife  of 
Thomas  Weech,  of  County  Norfolk,  received  the  royal  par- 
don for  witchcraft.142  In  1608,  Simon  Reade  was  pardoned 
for  conjuration  and  invocation  of  unclean  spirits.143  This 
case  is  mentioned  by  Ben  Jonson  in  The  Alchemist  (1610).144 
Reade  was  a medical  practitioner  and  cunning  man  of  South- 
wark.145 One  Toby  Mathew  of  London  had  lost  £37,  10 

140  No  doubt  James  approved  of  the  statute.  He  certainly  believed  in  witch- 
craft and  thought  that  proved  witches  ought  to  be  put  to  death.  In  the  Basilikon 
Doron,  addressed  to  Prince  Henry,  he  mentions  witchcraft  among  the  “horrible 
crymes  that  yee  are  bounde  in  Conscience  neuer  to  forgiue”  (1599,  Roxburghe 
Club  reprint,  p.  37 ; London  edition  of  1603,  p.  31).  But  the  question  is  not  whether 
he  was  a believer  in  the  actuality  of  such  offences,  but  whether  he  was  a blind  and 
maniacal  persecutor  who  misled  the  English  nation,  to  its  everlasting  disgrace. 

141  Cf.  Inderwick,  Side-Lights  on  the  Stuarts,  2d.  ed.,  p.  150. 

142  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1603-1610,  p.  96. 

143  Calendar,  p.  406. 

144  Act  i.,  scene  2. 

145  Reade  stood  suit  with  the  College  of  Physicians  in  1602  for  practising  without 
a license  and  was  cast,  as  Gifford  remarks  in  his  note  on  the  passage  in  The  Alche- 
mist. In  the  pardon  he  is  styled  “in  medicinis  professor.’’ 


48  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


shillings,  by  theft,  and  Reade  invoked  three  devils  — Hea- 
welon,  Faternon,  and  Cleveton  — to  learn  the  name  of  the 
thief  and  recover  the  money.  There  were  several  seances,  — 
the  first  on  November  8,  1606,  the  others  before  the  10th  of 
the  following  January.146  Apparently  Mathew  blabbed, 
perhaps  because  the  devils  did  not  find  his  money  for  him. 
No  doubt  Reade,  when  he  saw  that  his  trickery  was  to  cost 
him  his  life,  confessed  that  the  conjuration  was  pure  hum- 
bug, and  so  wTas  pardoned.  In  1610,  Christian  Weech  re- 
ceived a second  pardon,  this  time  for  the  murder  of  Mary 
Freeston  by  witchcraft.147  In  1611,  William  Bate,  “in- 
dicted twenty  years  since  for  practising  of  invocation  of 
spirits  for  finding  treasure,”  was  pardoned.148  In  Bate’s 
ease  the  ground  is  expressly  stated,  — the  evidence  was 
“found  weak.”  Of  course  this  was  also  the  reason  for  royal 
clemency  in  the  other  three  cases.  We  have  precisely  the 
same  situation  that  confronts  us  in  Jane  Wenham’s  case, 
in  1712,  when  the  judge  was  dissatisfied  with  the  verdict  of 
a credulous  jury  and  saved  the  condemned  prisoner  in  the 
only  way  open  to  him,  then  as  now,  by  procuring  the  royal 
pardon. 

The  bearing  of  these  records  is  unmistakable.  They 
prove  both  that  Janies  was  no  bigoted  and  undiscriminating 
witch-finder  and  witch-prosecutor,  and  that  the  judges  tried 
to  get  at  the  truth  in  this  crime  as  in  others.  Here,  then,  is 
the  place  to  quote  a passage  from  Francis  Osborne,  with 
whom  King  James  was  no  favorite  : “What  his  judgment  was 
of  Witchcraft,  you  may  in  part  find  by  his  Treatise  on  that 
Subject,  and  Charge  he  gave  the  Judges,  to  be  circumspect 
in  condemning  those,  committed  by  ignorant  Justices,  for 
Diabolical  Compacts.  Nor  had  he  concluded  his  advice  in 
a narrower  Circle  (as  I have  heard)  than  the  denial  of  any 
such  Operations,  but  out  of  Reason  of  State : and  to  gratify 
the  Church,  which  hath  in  no  Age,  thought  fit  to  explode  out 
of  the  Common  Peoples  Minds,  an  Apprehension  of  Witch- 
craft.” 149  The  latter  part  of  this  dictum  may  pass  for  what 


146  The  pardon,  giving  these  details,  is  printed  in  Rymer’s  Fcedera,  2d  edi- 
tion, 16.  666-667. 

147  Calendar,  1603-1610,  p.  598.  148  Calendar,  1611-1618,  p.  29. 

149  Essay  1,  Miscellaneous  Works,  11th  ed.,  1722,  1.  25. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


49 


it  is  worth.  The  whole  passage  is  valuable  for  the  light  it 
throws  upon  the  king’s  reputation  with  his  contemporaries. 
They  thought  him  skeptical  rather  than  credulous. 

There  is  a close  relation  between  the  general  purport  of  Os- 
borne’s testimony  and  the  attitude  of  James  with  regard  to  the 
curative  power  of  the  royal  touch.150  His  incredulity  on  this 
point  was  manifested  at  the  very  beginning  of  his  reign. 
“The  King,”  wrote  Scaramelli  to  the  Doge  of  Venice,  in  1G03, 
shortly  before  the  coronation,  “ says  that  neither  he  nor  any 
other  King  can  have  power  to  heal  scrofula,  for  the  age  of 
miracles  is  past,  and  God  alone  can  work  them.  However,” 
adds  the  Venetian,  “he  will  have  the  full  ceremony  [sc.  of 
coronation,  anointing  included],  so  as  not  to  lose  this  pre- 
rogative [sc.  of  touching  for  the  king’s  evil],  which  belongs 
to  the  Kings  of  England  as  Kings  of  France.”  151  And  we 
know  that  he  actually  touched  for  the  evil  on  various  occa- 
sions, for  reasons  of  state,152  knowing  well  that  the  ceremony 
could  not  harm  the  sufferers  and  might  work  beneficially 
upon  them  through  the  imagination.  “He  was  a King  in 
understanding,”  says  Arthur  Wilson,  “and  was  content  to 
have  his  Subjects  ignorant  in  many  things.  As  in  curing 
the  Kings-Evil,  which  he  knew  a Device,  to  aggrandize  the 
Virtue  of  Kings,  when  Miracles  were  in  fashion;  but  he  let 
the  World  believe  it,  though  he  smiled  at  it,  in  his  own 
Reason,  finding  the  strength  of  the  Imagination  a more 
powerful  Agent  in  the  Cure,  than  the  Plasters  his  Cliirurgions 
prescribed  for  the  Sore.”  153 

Along  with  the  pardons  which  we  have  noted  may  be 
classed  the  toleration  which  James  extended  to  Forman  and 
Lambe  and  Dee.  This  is  a curious  circumstance  which  has 
never  received  the  attention  it  deserves. 

Simon  F orman  was  undoubtedly  a rascal . 154  He  seems,  how- 
ever, to  have  been  a likeable  fellow.  Lilly’s  anecdote  of  his 
predicting  his  own  death  is  charming  and  proves  that  Forman 

150  See  Manly,  Macbeth,  1900,  pp.  xvi.-xviii. 

151  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Venetian,  1603-1607,  p.  44  (June  4,  1603). 

152  In  1604,  1608,  1610,  and  1617,  for  instance  (Calendar,  as  above,  1603-1607, 
p.  193;  1607-1610,  pp.  116,  465;  Eboracum,  1788,  1.  150). 

153  History  of  Great  Britain,  1653,  p.  289. 

154  See  Mr.  Lee’s  life  of  Forman  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  19. 
438  ff. 


50  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


had  a good  measure  of  bonhomie .155  It  also  goes  far  to  show 
that  he  put  some  trust  in  his  own  occult  powers,  though  in 
the  main  he  must  have  been  a charlatan.  Certainly  he 
passed  for  a sorcerer.  For  years  he  made  a public  profession 
of  necromancy  and  magic  at  Lambeth,  and  was  much  con- 
sulted by  the  ladies.  On  the  26th  of  June,  1603,  Forman 
was  licensed  by  the  University  of  Cambridge  to  practise 
medicine,  and  on  the  next  day  the  university  conferred  upon 
him  the  degree  of  M.D.  How  he  contrived  to  obtain  these 
certificates  of  professional  respectability  is  a puzzle.156  King 
James  never  molested  Forman,  and  the  Doctor  died  peace- 
fully in  1611.  The  full  extent  of  his  rascality  did  not  come 
out  until  the  trial  of  Mrs.  Turner,  in  1615,  for  the  murder 
of  Overbury,157  but  that  makes  no  difference.  He  was  a 
notorious  conjuror,  and  it  would  have  been  easy  to  find  evi- 
dence during  his  life  that  would  have  hanged  him  a hun- 
dred times.158 

Dr.  John  Lambe  was  in  the  same  kind  of  business  as  For- 
man but  was  even  less  reputable.  He  was  convicted  at  the 
Worcester  assizes  on  two  separate  indictments,  each  of  them 
for  a capital  crime.  The  first  was  for  “wasting  and  con- 
suming” Thomas  Lord  Windsor  by  witchcraft;  the  second 
for  “invoking  and  entertaining”  evil  spirits.159  Sentence  was 
suspended,  and  Lambe  was  imprisoned  in  Worcester  Castle. 
Shortly  after,  he  was  removed  to  the  King's  Bench  in  Lon- 

155  William  Lilly,  History  of  his  Life  and  Times,  2d  ed.,  1715,  p.  16. 

15$  Forman  was  twice  imprisoned,  at  the  instance  of  the  Royal  College  of 
Physicians,  as  an  unauthorized  and  ignorant  practitioner  (in  1595  and  1596).  In 
1601  he  was  again  complained  of.  In  1606  and  1607,  after  obtaining  his  Cambridge 
degree,  he  was  cited  to  appear  before  the  College,  but  refused  to  obey.  See  the 
records  in  the  8th  Report  of  the  Commission  on  Historical  MSS.,  Appendix,  Part  i., 
p.  22S. 

167  Truth  Brought  to  Light  by  Time,  1651,  pp.  135-138;  Letter  from  Thomas 
Bone  to  Sir  John  Egerton,  November  9,  1615,  Egerton  Papers,  Camden  Society, 
pp.  470—173. 

153  See  Lilly,  pp.  12-16. 

159  The  indictments  are  printed  (in  translation)  in  A Briefe  Description  of  the 
Notorious  Life  of  Iohn  Lambe,  Amsterdam,  1628,  pp.  3-6.  They  are  not  dated. 
The  bewitching  of  Lord  Windsor  is  stated  in  the  first  indictment  to  have  occurred 
on  December  16,  5 Jac.  I.  (i.e.  1607),  and  at  divers  times  afterward;  the  second 
indictment  dates  the  invocation  of  evil  spirits,  May  13,  6 Jac.  I.  (i.e.  1608),  and 
before  and  after.  Mr.  Sidney  Lee  (Dictionary  of  National  Biography,  32.  1)  shifts 
the  second  of  these  dates,  inadvertently,  from  the  offence  to  the  trial-  We  do  not, 
in  fact,  know  when  Lambe  was  tried,  but  it  was  before  1617. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


51 


don,160  where  he  remained  a long  time.  But  his  confine- 
ment was  not  rigorous.  He  lived  in  prison  quite  at  his  ease, 
receiving  his  patients  and  clients  and  doing  a thriving  busi- 
ness as  physician  and  sorcerer.161  He  was  convicted  of  a 
rape  committed  while  in  confinement,162  but  the  chief  jus- 
tice reported  that  the  evidence  was  dubious,  and  in  1624 
he  was  pardoned.163  Soon  after,  he  was  released  from  cus- 
tody and  took  up  his  residence  near  the  Parliament  House.164 
In  1628  he  met  his  death  at  the  hands  of  the  London  mob 
while  returning  from  a play  at  the  Fortune.165  Lambe  was 
protected  by  Buckingham,  and  was  known  as  the  “ Duke’s 
devil.” 166  But  Buckingham  was  not  always  friendly.  Thus, 
in  1625,  the  duke  was  clamorous  against  him  on  account  of 
his  connection  with  Lady  Purbeck’s  case.  “If  Lambe  ” 
— so  Buckingham  wrote  to  Attorney  General  Coventry  and 
Solicitor  General  Heath  — “be  allowed  to  get  off  by  saying 
he  was  only  juggling  [ i.e . not  really  practising  sorcery],  . . . 
the  truth  can  never  be  known ; Lambe  has  hitherto,  by  such 
shifts,  mocked  the  world  and  preserved  himself.”  167  I am 
far  from  maintaining  that  King  James’s  indulgence  to  such 
scoundrels  as  Forman  and  Lambe  was  altogether  creditable 
to  him,  but  it  certainly  tends  to  prove  that  lie  was  not  a rabid 
prosecutor  of  witches  and  sorcerers.168 

160  Briefe  Description,  p.  14.  161  Pp.  14  ff. 

162  The  indictment  dates  the  offence  June  10,  21  Jac.  I.,  i.e.  1623  (Briefe  De- 
scription, p.  15).  The  conviction  was  in  1624  (Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Do- 
mestic, 1623-1625,  p.  485). 

163  Calendar,  1623-1625,  pp.  241,  243,  261,  266,  280. 

164  Briefe  Description,  1628,  p.  20. 

166  The  same,  pp.  20-21 ; Rushworth,  Historical  Collections,  1.  618  (cf.  1.  391) ; 
Reign  of  Charles  I.,  continuation  of  Baker’s  Chronicle,  ed.  1660,  p.  493 ; Richard 
Smith,  Obituary,  in  Peck,  Desiderata  Curiosa,  Vol.  2.  Book  xiv,  p.  11;  Jupp, 
Historical  Account  of  the  Company  of  Carpenters,  1887,  pp.  84-85. 

166  Continuation  of  Baker’s  Chronicle,  as  above,  p.  493.  Cf.  Fairholt,  Poems  and 
Songs  relating  to  George  Villiers,  Duke  of  Buckingham,  Percy  Society,  1850,  pp. 
xiv.-xv.,  58-63,  65. 

167  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1623-1625,  p.  476.  Lady  Purbeck  had 
visited  Lambe  in  prison  to  procure  charms  from  him  (p.  474 ; cf.  p.  497). 

168  Another  infamous  person  who  drove  a thriving  trade  with  the  court  ladies  was 
Mrs.  Mary  Woods,  who  practised  her  arts  at  Norwich,  and  removed  to  London 
in  1612.  She  was  involved  in  the  alleged  plot  of  the  Countess  of  Essex  to  poison 
the  Earl.  She  was  arrested  and  examined,  but  it  does  not  appear  that  she  was 
proceeded  against  under  the  statute  of  1604,  although  one  witness  declared  that  she 
professed  to  have  a familiar  spirit.  Obviously  she  was  regarded  as  a mere  charla- 
tan, yet  it  would  have  been  easy  enough  to  hang  her  for  a witch  if  the  king  had 


52  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


Dr.  Dee  is  in  a different  category,  for  he  was  a profound 
scholar  and  a man  of  a sincere  and  simple  character,  whom  it 
would  be  profanation  to  class  with  Lambe  and  Forman.  Yet 
there  is  no  manner  of  doubt  that  his  occult  experiments 
(of  which  voluminous  documentary  evidence  is  still  extant) 
might  have  convicted  him  of  sorcery  on  literally  a thousand 
counts.  His  sole  defence  would  have  been  that  he  was  in- 
voking and  consulting  good  angels,  not  demons,  but  the 
theologians  could  have  made  short  work  of  that  allegation. 
True,  Dee  had  been  examined  on  a charge  of  witchcraft  in 
the  Star  Chamber  in  1555  and  acquitted.169  But  his  subse- 
quent proceedings  were  enough  to  condemn  him,  and  he 
constantly  had  to  protest  against  the  aspersion  of  being  “a 
companion  of  Hell-hounds  and  conjuror  of  wicked  and 
damned  spirits,”  170  and  “the  arche  coniurer  of  this  whole 
kingdom.”  171  In  1583  the  mob  had  destroyed  his  library 
at  Mortlake.172  Anecdotes  that  descended  to  Aubrey  give 
ample  testimony  to  his  fame  as  a conjuror.173  Dee  seems 
to  have  been  agitated  by  the  passage  of  the  statute  of  1604, 
for,  on  June  5,  of  that  year,  while  the  act  was  still  in  debate, 
he  petitioned  King  James  to  have  him  “tryed  and  cleared 
of  that  horrible  and  damnable,  and  to  him  most  grievous  and 
dammageable  sclaunder,  generally,  and  for  these  many  yeares 
last  past,  in  this  kingdom  raysed  and  continued,  by  report 
and  print  against  him,  namely,  that  he  is  or  hath  bin  a con- 
jurer or  caller  or  invocator  of  divels.”  174  No  attention  was 
paid  to  his  entreaty,  but  the  king  did  not  molest  him,  and 


favored  such  a prosecution  (Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1611-1618,  pp. 
134,  161,  173,  183,  187 ; Inquiry  into  the  Genuineness  of  a Letter,  etc.,  pp.  17-19, 
Camden  Miscellany,  5 ; Gardiner,  History  of  England,  1603-1642,  4th  ed., 
2.  169,  note  l). 

169  See  his  own  account  of  the  affair  in  his  Compendious  Rehearsall,  1592, 
printed  by  Crossley,  in  Autobiographical  Tracts  of  Dr.  John  Dee,  pp.  20-21  (Chet- 
ham  Miscellany,  1),  and  cf.  the  Necessary  Advertisement  prefixed  to  his  General 
and  Rare  Memorials  pertayning  to  the  Perfect  Arte  of  Navigation,  1577  (Crossley, 
p.  57).  See  also  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1547-1550,  p.  67 ; Charlotte 
Fell  Smith,  John  Dee,  1909,  pp.  14-15. 

170  Dee’s  Preface  to  Henry  Billingsley’s  translation  of  Euclid’s  Elements,  1571 
(Smith,  pp.  24-28). 

171  Necessary  Advertisement,  1577  (Crossley,  p.  53). 

172  Compendious  Rehearsall,  1592  (Crossley,  pp.  27  ff.). 

173  Aubrey,  Brief  Lives,  ed.  Andrew  Clark,  1.  212-214. 

174  Smith,  p.  293. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


53 


he  died  in  his  bed  in  1608.  James  doubtless  respected  Dee's 
learning,  and  he  may  have  been  assured  of  his  innocence 
by  the  aged  scholar’s  friends,  who  were  numerous  and  in- 
fluential, — Sir  Julius  Csesar,  for  instance.  Indeed,  Dee 
was  styled  “the  King  his  Mathematitian,”  175  — a title 
which  appears  to  imply  some  degree  of  royal  favor. 

James’s  pardons  and  his  toleration  of  Dee  and  Lambe  and 
Forman  would  go  far  to  show  that  he  was  not  a bigoted 
witch-prosecutor.  But  there  is  evidence  of  an  unequivocal 
nature.  It  concerns  the  king’s  personal  activity  in  the  de- 
tection of  imposture.  On  this  point  the  records  are  decisive, 
and,  when  we  consider  the  prevalent  impression  as  to  James’s 
character  as  a witch-finder,  they  are  nothing  less  than  as- 
tounding.176 

First  of  all  we  have  a charming  letter  from  James  to  the 
young  Prince  Henry.  It  bears  no  date,  but  unbiassed  judges 
put  it  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  reign,  and  Sir  Henry  Ellis 
believes  that  it  was  written  before  the  Prince  had  left  Scot- 
land. 

My  Sonne  I ame  glaid  that  by  youre  Letre  I maye  persave  that  ye 
make  some  progresse  in  learning.  ...  I ame  also  glaide  of  the  discoverie 
of  yone  litle  eounterfitte  Wenche.  I praye  God  ye  maye  be  my  aire  [i.e., 
heir]  in  such  discoveries.  Ye  have  ofte  hearde  me  saye  that  most  miracles 
nou  a dayes  proves  but  illusions,  and  ye  maye  see  by  this  hou  waire  judgis 
should  be  in  trusting  accusations  withoute  an  exacte  tryall ; and  lyke- 
wayes  hou  easielie  people  are  inducid  to  trust  wonders.  Lett  her  be 
kepte  fast  till  my  cumming ; and  thus  God  blesse  you  my  sonne.177 

176  MS.  College  of  Arms  e.  37, 168,  quoted  by  F.  R.  Raines,  Rectors  of  Manches- 
ter and  Wardens  of  the  Collegiate  Church,  Part  ii,  1885,  p.  110  (Chetham  Society). 

176  James  has  been  derided  for  maintaining  the  doctrine  of  witchcraft  in  the 
Essex  divorce  case  (see  his  answer  to  Archbishop  Abbot  in  Truth  Brought  to  Light 
by  Time,  1651,  pp.  103  ff.).  This  discredit,  however,  such  as  it  is,  is  cancelled  by 
his  conduct  in  the  case  of  Sir  Thomas  Lake  (involving  a precisely  similar  allegation 
of  witchcraft),  in  which  he  showed  much  acumen  in  unravelling  a tangled  skein  of 
malice  and  perjury.  See  Gardiner,  History,  3.  189-194  (1895).  Mr.  Gardiner 
remarks  that  James  “prided  himself  upon  his  skill  in  the  detection  of  impostures” 
(3.  192). 

177  Harleian  MS.  6986,  art.  40  (autograph),  as  printed  by  Sir  Henry  Ellis,  Original 
Letters,  1st  Series,  1824,  3.  80-81.  The  letter  may  also  be  found  in  Birch,  Life  of 
Henry  Prince  of  Wales,  1760,  p.  37 ; Letters  to  King  James  the  Sixth,  Maitland 
Club,  1835,  p.  xxxv.  (where  it  is  said,  erroneously,  to  be  in  reply  to  an  extant  letter 
of  January  1,  1603-4,  from  Prince  Henry) ; Nichols,  Progresses  of  James  I.,  1. 
304 ; Halliwell,  Letters  of  the  Kings,  1848,  2.  102.  Ci.  Gifford’s  edition  of  Ford, 
1.  clxxi.  (ed.  Dyce,  1869,  3.  276) ; Quarterly  Review,  41.  80-82. 


54  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


In  1G04  we  find  James,  in  his  Counterblast  to  Tobacco, 
deriding  exorcism  in  a style  worthy  of  Bancroft  and  Harsnet. 
“ O omnipotent  power  of  Tobacco  !”  he  ejaculates.  “And 
if  it  could  by  the  smoke  thereof  chace  out  deuils,  as  the  smoke 
of  Tobias  fish  did  (which  I am  sure  could  smel  no  stronger)  it 
would  seme  for  a precious  Relieke,  both  for  the  superstitious 
Priests,  and  the  insolent  Puritanes,  to  cast  out  deuils 
withal.”  178 

Another  letter  of  the  king’s  should  be  given  in  full,  if  space 
allowed.  It  begins  by  reminding  the  recipient  “how  that 
in  late  time  we  discovered  and  put  to  flight  one  of  those  coun- 
terfeits, the  like  whereof  ye  now  advertise  us.”  “By  this 
bearer,”  adds  King  James,  “we  send  unto  you  instructions 
suited  for  such  an  occasion,  willing  you  leave  nothing  untried 
to  discover  the  imposture.”  It  appears  that  the  patient  was 
a woman  who  lay  in  a trance  and  had  supported  life  for  a 
long  time  on  one  small  cup  of  wine.  The  king  gives  wise 
directions  and  remarks  that  “miracles  like  those  of  which 
you  give  11s  notice  should  be  all  ways  and  diligently  tested.” 
And  he  concludes  with  the  words,  “It  . . . becomes  us  to 
lose  no  opportunity  of  seeking  after  the  real  truth  of  pre- 
tended wonders,  that  if  true  we  may  bless  the  Creator  who 
hath  shown  such  marvels  to  men,  and  if  false  we  may  pun- 
ish the  impudent  inventors  of  them.”  179 

In  1605  Sir  Roger  Wilbraham  notes  in  his  Journal,  imme- 
diately after  telling  a witch-story:  — “The  King’s  maiestie, 
sithence  his  happie  comyng,  by  his  owne  skill  hath  discov- 
ered 2 notorious  impostures : one  of  a phisicion  that  made 
latyne  & lerned  sermons  in  the  slepe  : which  he  did  by  secret 
premeditaeion : thother  of  a woman  pretended  to  be  be- 
witched, that  cast  up  at  her  mouth  pynnes,  & pynnes  were 
taken  by  divers  in  her  fitts  out  of  her  brest.”  180 

178  Ed.  Arber,  p.  108. 

179  Dated  March  5th  (no  year).  Halliwell  (from  Rawlinson  MS.),  Letters  of 
the  Kings,  2.  124-125.  It  does  not  appear  to  whom  the  letter  was  addressed. 
Such  cases  of  real  or  pretended  fasting  are  common.  See,  for  example,  John 
Reynolds,  A Discourse  upon  Prodigious  Abstinence : occasioned  by  the  Twelve 
Moneths  Fasting  of  Martha  Taylor,  the  famed  Derbyshire  Damsell,  1669. 

180  Journal  of  Sir  Roger  Wilbraham,  1593-1616,  ed.  by  H.  S.  Scott,  p.  70  (Cam- 
den Miscellany,  10).  This  is  clearly  the  case  mentioned  by  Walter  Yonge  in  his 
Diary  (ed.  Roberts,  Camden  Society,  1848,  p.  12).  If  so,  the  bewitched  person 
was  “ near  kinswoman  to  Doctor  Holland’s  wife,  Rector  of  Exon  College  in 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


55 


The  first  of  these  two  impostors  was  Richard  Haydock 
of  New  College,  Oxford,  the  celebrated  Sleeping  Preacher. 
He  made  a great  noise  in  the  world.  In  1605  James  sum- 
moned him  to  court,  where  he  preached  three  times.  The 
king  felt  sure  he  was  shamming.  He  soon  fathomed  Hay- 
dock’s  mystery,  brought  him  to  repentance,  and  treated  him 
kindly  afterwards.181  The  doctor’s  confession,  addressed  to 
King  James,  is  extant  among  the  State  Papers.182  Though 
witchcraft  was  not  involved,  the  incident  throws  light  on  the 
king’s  frame  of  mind. 

King  James’s  detection  of  Haydock  took  place  in  April, 
1605.  In  November  of  the  same  year  the  Gunpowder  Plot 
was  discovered.  James,  it  will  be  remembered,  boasted 
rather  pedantically  in  an  address  to  Parliament  that  he  had 
unriddled  a dark  sentence  in  the  Mounteagle  letter  and  so 
was  in  effect  the  discoverer  of  the  conspiracy.183  He  made 
similar  pretensions  in  a conversation  with  Giustinian,  the 
Venetian  ambassador.184  There  is  a plain  connection  be- 
tween his  pride  in  this  exploit  and  the  shrewdness  he  had 
just  exhibited  in  the  affair  of  the  Sleeping  Preacher  and  in 
that  of  the  bewitched  woman,  for  Salisbury  gave  out  that 
he  and  other  Councillors  had  submitted  the  Mounteagle 
letter  to  the  king  because  of  “the  expectation  and  experience 
they  had  of  His  Majesties  fortunate  Judgement  in  cleering 
and  solving  of  obscure  Riddles  and  doubtful  Mysteries.’’ 185 
It  makes  no  difference  whether  this  consultation  was  pro 

Oxford.”  This  was  Thomas  Holland,  on  whom  see  Wood,  Athenae  Oxonienses, 
ed.  Bliss,  2.  111-112;  Foster,  Alumni  Oxonienses,  2.  731. 

181  King  James  his  Apophthegmes,  1643,  pp.  8-9 ; Calendar  of  State  Papers, 
Domestic,  1603-1610,  pp.  212,  213;  Venetian,  1603-1607,  pp.  238,  240-241; 
letters  in  Lodge,  Illustrations  of  British  History,  2d  ed.,  1838,  3.  143-144,  153- 
155,  157-160;  Arthur  Wilson,  History  of  Great  Britain,  1653,  p.  Ill;  Baker’s 
Chronicle,  ed.  1660,  p.  431 ; Fuller,  Church  History,  Book  x..  Century  xvii.,  § 56,  ed. 
Brewer,  5.  450 ; Aubrey,  MS.  History  of  Wiltshire,  pp.  362-363,  as  quoted  by 
Halliwell,  Letters  of  the  Kings,  2.  124,  note;  Foster,  Alumni  Oxonienses,  2.  679; 
Dictionary  of  National  Biography. 

182  State  Papers,  James  I.,  Vol.  13.  No.  80.  It  is  an  obscure  and  rambling 
document. 

183  King  James  his  Speech  to  both  Houses  of  Parliament  on  Occasion  of  the  Gun- 
powder-Treason, ed.  1679,  p.  7 ; cf.  Journal  of  Sir  Roger  Wilbraham,  pp.  70-71 
(Camden  Miscellany,  10). 

184  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Venetian,  1603-1607,  p.  327  (cf.  pp.  316-317). 

185  Discourse,  appended  to  King  James  his  Speech  (see  note  183,  above),  pp.  28- 
29  (cf.  pp.  30-31). 


56  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


forma,  mere  courtly  complaisance,  or  whether  the  Councillors 
really  got  some  help  from  the  king.  On  either  hypothesis,  the 
penchant  of  James  for  playing  the  detective  is  equally  clear. 

The  second  case  mentioned  by  Wilbraham  was  pure  witch- 
craft. The  symptom  of  vomiting  pins  was  regarded  by  most 
scholars  as  decisive  against  fraud.  Thus  Cotta,  in  1616,  in 
enumerating  various  tests  by  which  (in  contradistinction 
to  swimming,  scratching,  and  other  things  that  he  repudiates) 
witchcraft  may  be  recognized,  accepts  this  as  one  that  is 
“palpable  and  not  obscure  to  any  eye  without  difficulty, 
offering  [itself]  to  plaine  and  open  viewe.”  186  It  now  ap- 
pears that  James,  more  than  ten  years  before  Cotta  wrote, 
had  confuted  this  infallible  test.  Yet  we  are  told  that  Cotta 
“was  in  advance  of  his  age,”  that  “he  published  his  book  in 
1616,  when  King  James’s  doctrines  prevailed  in  full  force, 
and  it  attracted  little  attention.”  187  I agree  that  Cotta 
was  in  advance  of  his  age.  Be  it  so  — but  what  shall  we 
then  say  of  James  I.  ? 

Another  undated  example  is  preserved  by  Aubrey.188  A 
gentlewoman  named  Katharine  Waldron,  who  “waited  on 
Sir  Francis  Seymor’s  lady  of  Marlborough,”  pretended  to  be 
“bewitched  by  a certain  woman.”  The  phenomena  were 
similar  to  those  in  the  case  of  Mary  Glover,  which  misled  the 
Recorder  of  London  in  1603. 189  The  king  “detected  the 
cheat”  by  a clever,  though  somewhat  indecorous,  device. 

More  than  once,  when  James  was  unable  to  investigate 
these  matters  in  person,  he  intrusted  the  business  to  some- 
body else.  Thus,  in  1605,  a warrant  was  issued  “for  such 
sums  as  the  Earl  of  Salisbury  shall  require,  for  the  charges 
of  two  maids  suspected  to  be  bewitched,  and  kept  at  Cam- 
bridge for  trial.”  190  Trial  in  this  record  of  course  does  not 
mean  trial  in  court  (for  it  was  not  a crime  to  be  bewitched), 
but  test,  investigation.  Obviously  it  was  thought  that  the 
girls  might  be  shamming.  Again,  in  1611,  the  Council  sent 
a letter  to  the  Bishop  of  Bangor  and  the  Judges  of  Assize 

186  Triall  of  Witch-craft,  p.  76. 

187  Wright,  Narratives  of  Sorcery  and  Magic,  2.  144. 

188  MS.  History  of  Wiltshire,  pp.  362-363  (Halliwell,  Letters  of  the  Kings,  2. 
124,  note). 

189  See  p.  29,  above. 

190  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1603-1610,  p.  218. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


57 


for  County  Carnarvon  “ to  search  out  the  truth  of  a supposed 
witchcraft  committed  on  six  young  maids.”  191  This  was 
another  cautionary  measure  to  prevent  false  accusation  and 
the  arraignment  of  innocent  persons.  It  reminds  one  of 
the  action  of  Charles  I.  in  1634,  when  he  delegated  Bishop 
Bridgeman  to  investigate  the  second  Pendle  case.192  We 
shall  have  occasion  to  consider  the  attitude  of  King  Charles 
presently.  193 

And  now  we  come  to  the  most  distinguished  of  all  King 
James’s  exploits  in  the  detection  of  fraudulent  bewitchment. 
It  is  a case  which,  even  if  it  stood  absolutely  alone,  might 
suffice,  in  the  absence  of  adverse  testimony,  to  clear  his 
reputation. 

In  1616,  on  the  18th  day  of  July,  nine  persons  were  hanged 
at  Leicester.  Their  crime  was  the  bewitching  of  a boy  of 
thirteen  or  fourteen,  named  Smythe, 194  who  suffered  from 
fits  195  like  those  of  the  Throckmorton  girls  of  Warboys.196 
Indeed,  the  influence  of  that  famous  case  is  unmistakable. 
Justice  Fenner,  in  1593,  made  old  Samuel  recite  a formula 
devised  by  one  of  the  hysterical  girls:  “As  I am  a Witch, 
and  did  consent  to  the  death  of  the  Lady  Cromwell,  so  I 
charge  the  deuil  to  suffer  Mistress  lane  to  come  out  of  her 
fitt  at  this  present.”  197  Thereupon  the  girl  was  instantly 
relieved.  So  at  Leicester  in  1616  the  accused  were  obliged 
to  say,  “I  such  a one  chardge  the  hors  [one  of  the  devils],  if 
I be  a wiche,  that  thou  come  forthe  of  the  chilld,”  whereupon 
young  Smythe  ceased  to  be  tormented.198  The  judges  were 
Sir  Humphrey  Winch,  Justice  of  the  Common  Pleas,  and  Sir 
Randolph  Crew  (Serjeant),199  — the  former  a member  of 
the  Parliament  that  passed  the  Statute  of  1604. 200 

191  Calendar,  1611-1618,  p.  29. 

192  Calendar,  1634-1635,  pp.  26,  77-79,  98,  129-130,  141,  152-153. 

193  See  p.  64,  below. 

194  On  his  identity  see  Kittredge,  King  James  I.  and  The  Devil  is  an  Ass 
(Modern  Philology,  9.  195-209). 

195  Letter  from  Alderman  Robert  Heyrick  of  Leicester  to  his  brother  Sir  William 
in  London,  dated  July  18,  1616  — the  very  day  of  the  execution  (printed  by  Nichols, 
Leicestershire,  Vol.  2.  Part  ii.,  p.  471*). 

196  See  p.  32,  above. 

197  Witches  of  Warboys,  1593,  sig.  P2  r°. 

198  Heyrick’s  letter. 

199  Nichols,  Progresses  of  James  I.,  3.  193 ; Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic, 
1611-1618,  p.  398. 

200  He  was  M.P.  for  the  Borough  of  Bedford  (Members  of  Parliament,  1.  442  a). 


58  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


About  a month  after  the  execution  of  these  nine  witches, 
King  James  chanced  to  be  at  Leicester  on  a royal  progress. 
He  stayed  there  not  more  than  twenty-four  hours.201  The 
Smythe  boy  was  still  having  his  fits,  and  six  more  accused 
persons  were  in  jail  awaiting  trial  at  the  autumn  assizes. 
Nobody  can  doubt  what  the  issue  would  have  been.  But 
now  James  intervened.  I will  let  Francis  Osborne  (1593- 
1659)  tell  the  story.  “The  King  being  gratified  by  nothing 
more  than  an  Opportunity  to  shew  his  Dexterity  in  dis- 
covering an  Imposture  (at  which  I must  confess  him  the 
promptest  Man  Living)  upon  his  arrival  convented  the  Boy. 
Where,  before  him,  (possibly  daunted  at  his  Presence,  or 
terrified  by  his  Words)  he  began  to  faulter,  so  as  the  King 
discovered  a Fallacy.  And  did  for  a further  Confirmation, 
send  him  to  Lambeth;  where  the  Servants  of  Dr.  George 
Abbot ,202  did  in  a few  Weeks  discover  the  whole  Deceit.  And 
he  was  sent  back  to  his  Majesty  before  the  end  of  the  Prog- 
ress ; where,  upon  a small  entreaty,  he  would  repeat  all  his 
Tricks  oftentimes  in  a Day.”  203 

The  result  we  learn  from  a contemporary  letter  written 
by  a Leicester  alderman.204  Five  of  the  six  alleged  witches 
were  released  without  a trial ; the  sixth  had  died  in  prison. 
Nor  did  the  king  neglect  to  let  the  judges  see  that  he  was 
not  pleased  with  their  lack  of  acumen.  “Justice  Winch,” 
writes  Secretary  Chamberlain  to  Sir  Dudley  Carleton  on 
October  IS,  “and  Serjeant  Crew  are  somewhat  discoun- 
tenanced for  hanging  certain  Witches  in  their  circuit  at 
Leicester ; whereas  the  King,  coming  that  wTay,  found  out 
the  juggling  and  imposture  of  the  boy,  that  counterfeited 
to  be  bewitched.”  205 


201  The  king  went  from  Nottingham  to  Leicester  on  August  15th,  spent  the 
night  there,  and  proceeded  to  Dingley,  on  the  16th  (Nichols,  Progresses,  3.  180- 
181,  cf.  3.  175). 

202  Archbishop  of  Canterbury. 

203  Essays  (Miscellaneous  Works,  11th  ed.,  1722,  1.  30-31). 

204  Robert  Heyrick’s  letter,  October  15,  1616  (printed  by  Nichols,  Leicestershire, 
Vol.  2.  Part  ii„  p.  471*). 

2°5  Nichols,  Progresses,  3.  192-193;  Calendar  of  State  Papers,  Domestic,  1611- 
1618,  p.  398.  We  can  make  out  a satisfactory  account  of  the  case  by  comparing 
Osborne  with  Heyrick’s  two  letters  (one  of  July  18,  the  other  of  October  15,  1616, 
both  printed  by  Nichols,  Leicestershire,  Vol.  2.  Part  ii.,  p.  471*).  I have  followed 
Heyrick  (as  being  absolutely  contemporary  and  on  the  spot)  wherever  he  differs 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


59 


King  James’s  action  in  the  Leicester  case  of  1616  took 
instant  effect.  The  clamor  of  the  populace  against  witches 
was  not  silenced,  but  the  judges  henceforth  used  extraor- 
dinary circumspection.  They  had  no  mind  to  incur  the  royal 
displeasure.  The  result  should  be  carefully  noted.  From 
July,  1616,  until  James’s  death  on  March  27,  1625,  almost 
exactly  nine  years,  only  five  persons  are  known  to  have  been 
executed  for  witchcraft  in  England.206  Two  of  these  were 
hanged  at  Bristol  in  1624,  and  I have  no  details.207  One  — 
Elizabeth  Sawyer  of  Edmonton  — confessed  after  convic- 
tion.208 The  other  two  were  Margaret  and  Philippa  Flower, 
who  were  executed  at  Lincoln  on  March  11,  1619.  Their 
case  is  very  remarkable.  A bare  statement  of  facts  will 
prove  how  impossible  it  was  for  any  jury  to  acquit  them  or 
any  king  to  show  them  favor.  Incidentally,  we  should  ob- 
serve that  they  would  have  been  hanged  under  the  Eliza- 
bethan statute. 

Joan  Flower  was  a foul-mouthed  old  woman,  much  given 
to  cursing,  and  suspected  by  her  neighbors  of  being  a witch. 
She  was  incensed  at  the  Countess  of  Rutland  for  discharging 
her  daughter,  Margaret  Flower,  from  service  at  Belvoir 
Castle,  though  there  were  good  grounds  for  it,  and  though 
the  Countess  had  treated  the  girl  with  much  kindness.  Soon 
after,  three  of  the  Earl’s  children  fell  sick,  and  two  of  them 
died,  one  his  eldest  son.  The  Earl,  it  seems,  had  no  suspicion 
against  the  Flowers.  Ultimately,  however,  Joan  and  her 
two  daughters  were  arrested,  doubtless  as  a result  of  local 
gossip.  Joan  Flower  was  never  tried  for  the  crime.  At  the 
time,  as  it  appears,  of  her  examination,  she  defiantly  sub- 


from  Osborne.  Heyrick  does  not  mention  the  king,  but  Osborne’s  testimony  as  to 
James’s  intervention  is  corroborated  in  all  essentials  by  Chamberlain’s  letter  of 
October  12,  1616  (Nichols,  Progresses,  3.  192-193;  Calendar,  1611-1618,  p.  398). 
Osborne,  by  the  way,  speaks  of  his  narrative  as  follows:  “I  will  here  relate  a 
story  of  my  own  knowledge”  (p.  29). 

206  Mr.  William  Wheater’s  statement  that  six  persons  suffered  death  for  witch- 
craft at  York  in  1622  (Old  Yorkshire,  ed.  by  William  Smith,  4.  266)  is  a mistake. 
This  was  the  Fairfax  case.  Six  persons  were  indicted,  but  all  of  them  were  dis- 
charged without  a complete  trial  (see  p.  63,  below). 

207  John  Latimer,  Annals  of  Bristol  in  the  Seventeenth  Century,  p.  91. 

208  There  was  no  torture.  She  confessed  to  the  minister,  Henry  Goodcole,  for 
her  soul’s  sake.  See  Goodcole’s  narrative.  The  Wonderfull  Discoverie  of  Elizabeth 
Sawyer,  1621,  reprinted  in  The  Works  of  John  Ford,  ed.  1895  (Bullen),  1.  Ixxxi  ff. 


60  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


jected  herself  to  a strange  test.  She  “called  for  Bread  and 
Butter,  and  wished  it  might  never  go  through  if  she  were 
guilty  of  that  wherevpon  she  was  examined : so  mumbling 
it  in  her  mouth,  never  spoke  more  words  after,  but  fell  doune 
and  dyed  as  she  was  carryed  to  Lincolne  Goale.”  Both  her 
daughters  confessed  and  were  hanged.209  There  can  be  no 
vestige  of  doubt  in  any  unprejudiced  mind  that  these  three 
women  were  guilty  in  intent.  They  had  practised  what 
they  supposed  to  be  witchcraft  in  order  to  destroy  the  chil- 
dren, and  they  believed  they  had  succeeded.  We  may  pity 
them  for  their  malicious  infatuation,  but  we  cannot  deny 
that  their  fate  was  deserved.  Nor  was  it  conceivable  that 
they  should  escape  it  when  God  himself  seemed  to  have 
pronounced  their  guilt. 

Five  executions,  then,  make  the  whole  account  for  the  last 
nine  years  of  King  James’s  reign,  and  with  regard  to  two  of 
these,  there  could  be  no  suspicion  of  counterfeiting.  The 
Earl’s  children  had  really  died,  and  the  accused  had  certainly 
tried  to  kill  them  by  sorcery.  Here  there  was  no  ground  on 
which  the  king’s  acumen  in  detecting  imposture  could  work, 
nor  could  any  amount  of  caution  on  the  part  of  the  judges 
avoid  the  plain  conclusion.210 

209  The  Wonderfull  Discoverie  of  the  Witchcrafts  of  Margaret  and  Philip  Flower, 
1619. 

210  We  may  laugh  at  witchcraft,  but  it  by  no  means  follows  that  all  the  afflicted 
persons  were  impostors  or  that  the  defendants  were  always  guiltless.  The  children 
who  cried  out  on  the  Salem  goodwives  and  the  numerous  other  “young  liars”  (as 
one  unsympathetic  writer  has  called  them)  were  really  afflicted,  though  the  cause 
was  mistaken.  Much  of  their  play-acting  was  a part  of  their  disease.  As  for  the 
witches  themselves  (I  do  not  here  refer  to  Salem  in  particular),  it  is  clear  that  many 
of  them  were  malignant  creatures  who  did  what  they  could  to  get  into  communion 
with  the  fiend  and  thought  they  had  succeeded.  As  Mr.  Andrew  Lang  well  remarks, 
“There  can  be  little  doubt  that  many  witches  were  in  intention  malevolent  enough. 
They  believed  in  their  own  powers,  and  probably  dealt  in  poison  on  occasion” 
(History  of  Scotland,  2.  352).  Others  were  precocious  experimenters  in  super- 
normal mental  states.  I need  but  refer  to  Professor  Wendell’s  suggestive  essay 
on  the  Salem  witches  (Stelligeri,  1893  ; cf.  his  Cotton  Mather,  pp.  93  ff.)  and  to 
Mr.  Brodie-Innes’s  paper  on  Scottish  Witchcraft  Trials,  in  which  this  fruitful 
subject  of  investigation  is  broached,  with  illuminating  remarks.  Neither  professes 
to  do  more  than  raise  the  question.  The  undiscovered  country  of  witch  pathology 
awaits  its  trained  explorer.  Meantime  we  may  speak  respectfully  of  some  of  our 
elders  — Wierus,  Scot,  Webster,  Bekker,  and  Meric  Casaubon  (not  all  of  them 
on  the  same  side)  — who  have  made  wise  observations  needing  only  to  be  translated 
from  the  obsolete  technical  language  of  their  day  in  order  to  appeal  to  the  modern 
alienist.  For  cases  of  genuine  and  indubitable  attempts  at  sorcery,  see,  for  example. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


61 


But  the  effect  of  King  James’s  rebuke  of  the  Leicester 
justices  is  visible  not  only  (by  inference)  in  the  lack  of  exe- 
cutions. It  may  also  be  traced  in  more  positive  ways.  In 
1620  occurred  the  notorious  fraud  of  William  Perry,  the 
Boy  of  Bilson.  The  supposed  witch  was  acquitted  at 
the  Stafford  assizes,  August  10,  1620,  and  the  judges  in- 
trusted Perry  to  Bishop  Morton,  who  was  present.  Morton 
detected  the  trick,  and  at  the  next  summer  assizes,  June  26, 
1621,  the  boy  made  public  amends,  asking  forgiveness  of  the 
alleged  witch,  who  was  there  to  receive  this  rehabilitation.211 
James  was  not  personally  active  — so  far  as  we  know  — 
in  this  exposure,  but  that  it  was  pleasing  to  him  we  can  infer, 
not  only  from  our  general  knowledge,  but  from  the  fact  that 
Arthur  Wilson,  in  his  History  of  Great  Britain,  published 
in  1653,  appends  to  the  story  the  following  observation : 
“The  King  took  delight  by  the  line  of  his  Reason  to  sound 
the  depth  of  such  brutish  Impostors,  and  he  discovered  many.” 
Then,  after  reporting  the  case  of  Haydock,  the  Sleeping 
Preacher,  Wilson  continues:  “Some  others,  both  men  and 
women,  inspired  with  such  Enthusiasms,  and  fanatick  fancies, 
he  reduced  to  their  right  senses,  applying  his  Remedies  suitable 
to  the  Distemper,  wherein  he  made  himself  often  very  merry 
. . . but  some  of  their  Stories  being  a little  coarse,  are  not 
fit  to  be  here  related.”  212 

Tributes  to  King  James’s  interest  in  detecting  fraudulent 
cases  are  offered  not  only  by  Osborne  (who  speaks  of  “the 
charge  he  gave  the  Judges,  to  be  circumspect  in  condemning 
those,  committed  by  ignorant  Justices,  for  Diabolical  Com- 
pacts”),213 but  by  Bishop  Goodman,  and  by  Fuller.  Good- 
man’s testimony  is  brief,  but  to  the  purpose.  James,  he  says, 
“was  ever  apt  to  search  into  secrets,  to  try  conclusions  [i.e. 
experiments],  as  I did  know  some  who  saw  him  run  to  see  one 
in  a fit  whom  they  said  was  bewitched.”  214  Fuller  provides 

Proceedings  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  2d  Series,  18.  140  ff. ; W.  M.  Hart, 
Archaeologia,  40.  397.  Examples  are  countless. 

211  Hutchinson,  Historical  Essay,  1718,  pp.  217  ff.  (from  the  narrative).  Cf. 
The  Second  Part  of  the  Boy  of  Bilson,  1698,  pp.  1-9;  Gee,  The  Foot  out  of  the 
Snare,  1624,  pp.  53-54. 

212  Pp.  111-112.  For  Wilson’s  own  skepticism  on  the  subject  of  witchcraft,  see 
his  Autobiography,  in  Peck,  Desiderata  Curiosa,  Vol.  2.  Book  xii,  pp.  26-27. 

213  Essay  i.  (Miscellaneous  Works,  11th  edition,  1722,  p.  29).  Cf.  p.  48,  above. 

214  Court  of  King  James  the  First,  ed.  Brewer,  1839,  1.  3. 


62  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


an  elaborate  testimonium .215  After  telling  of  the  Boy  of 
Bilson,  he  continues  as  follows : 

“Indeed,  all  this  king’s  reign  was  scattered  over  with 
cheaters  of  this  kind.  Some  papists,  some  sectaries,  some 
neither,  as  who  dissembled  such  possession,  either  out  of  mal- 
ice to  be  revenged  on  those  whom  they  accused  of  witchcraft, 
or  covetous  to  enrich  themselves.” 

Then,  after  giving  several  examples,  which  he  calls  “a 
few  out  of  many,”  216  he  concludes  thus : — 

“King  James  . . . was  no  less  dexterous  than  desirous 
to  make  discovery  of  these  deceits.  Various  were  his  ways  in 
detecting  them,  aweing  some  into  confession  with  his  pres- 
ence, others  by  promise  of  pardon  and  fair  usage.  He  or- 
dered it  so,  that  a proper  courtier  made  love  to  one  of  these 
bewitched  maids,  and  quickly  Cupid’s  arrows  drave  out  the 
pretended  darts  of  the  devil.  Another  there  was,  the  tides 
of  whose  possession  did  so  ebb  and  flow,  that  punctually  they 
observed  one  hour  till  the  king  came  to  visit  her.  The  maid, 
loath  to  be  so  unmannerly  as  to  make  his  majesty  attend 
her  time,  antedated  her  fits  many  hours,  and  instantly  ran 
through  the  whole  zodiac  of  tricks  which  she  used  to  play. 
A third,  strangely  affected  when  the  first  verse  of  St.  John’s 
Gospel  was  read  unto  her  in  our  translation,  was  tame  and 
quiet  whilst  the  same  was  pronounced  in  Greek,  her  English 
devil  belike  understanding  no  other  language.  The  fre- 
quency of  such  forged  possessions  wrought  such  an  altera- 
tion upon  the  judgment  of  King  James,  that  he,  receding 
from  what  he  had  written  in  his  Demonology,  grew  first 
diffident  of,  and  then  flatly  to  deny  the  workings  of 
witches  and  devils  as  but  falsehoods  and  delusions.”  217  It 
seems  probable  that  Fuller  goes  too  far  in  this  last  statement, 
though  Osborne  says  something  to  the  same  effect.218  It  is 
not  likely  that  King  James  ever  gave  up  his  theoretical  belief 
in  witchcraft.219  It  is  clear,  however,  that,  in  his  later  years, 

215  Church  History,  Book  x.,  cent,  xvii.,  §§  54-57  (ed.  Brewer,  5.  448-452).  Cf. 
Gifford’s  Jonson,  7.  140,  note  4. 

216  § 56.  The  only  case  that  we  can  date  is  Haydock’s  (see  p.  55,  above). 

217  § 57  (5.  451-452). 

218  Essay  i.  (see  p.  48,  above). 

219  The  Daemonologie  (unmodified)  was  included  in  the  authorized  edition  of  the 
king’s  Works  in  1616. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


63 


he  came  close  to  the  opinion  pronounced,  in  1711,  by  Addi- 
son in  a famous  passage  (echoed  by  Blackstone)  : “I  be- 
lieve in  general  that  there  is,  and  has  been  such  a thing  as 
witchcraft ; but  at  the  same  time  can  give  no  credit  to  any 
particular  instance  of  it.”  220  But  we  must  return  to  King 
James’s  good  influence  on  the  judges. 

This  influence  conies  out  very  clearly  in  the  Fairfax  case, 
six  years  after  James’s  rebuke  to  Justice  Winch  and  Serjeant 
Crew.221  In  1622,  Edward  Fairfax,  the  translator  of  Tasso, 
brought  six  women  before  the  York  assizes  on  the  charge  of 
bewitching  his  two  daughters.  The  fits  had  lasted  for  sev- 
eral months  and  were  similar  to  those  of  the  Throckmorton 
girls : the  Warboys  narrative  was  still  doing  its  work.  At 
the  same  assizes,  one  of  Fairfax’s  neighbors,  a gentleman 
named  John  Jeffray,  accused  the  same  defendants  of  be- 
witching his  daughter  Maud.  The  grand  jury  was  ex- 
ceptionally intelligent,  including  six  justices  of  the  peace. 
It  had  already  “received  a good  caveat  by  a message  from  the 
judge  to  be  very  careful  in  the  matter  of  witches.”  222  Yet 
it  found  a true  bill,  and  the  trial  began. 

The  six  women  were  arraigned  on  August  9,  1622.223 
Mark  the  course  of  proceedings.  All  three  of  the  afflicted 
girls  fell  into  a trance  in  the  presence  of  the  court  and  were 
carried  out  insensible.  Sir  George  Ellis  and  some  other 
justices,  leaving  the  bench,  followed,  and  exerted  themselves 
to  discover  the  imposture  that  they  suspected.  They  soon 
returned,  declaring  that  the  Jeffray  girl  had  confessed  that 
she  had  acted  throughout  by  the  direction  of  her  parents. 
Maud  Jeffray  denied  that  she  had  made  the  alleged  admis- 
sions ; but  her  father  was  sent  to  jail  forthwith,  and  his 
charge  was  dismissed.224  The  Fairfax  girls,  however,  had 
not  been  found  to  be  counterfeiting,  and  the  trial  of  that  case 
went  on.  But  the  court  was  determined  to  avoid  the  mis- 
take made  at  Leicester  in  1616.  The  presiding  justice,  after 

220  Spectator  for  July  14,  1711  (No.  117);  cf.  Blackstone,  Commentaries,  Book 
iv.,  chap.  4,  sect.  6 (4th  edition,  1770,  4.  60-61). 

221  Full  details  of  this  case  are  given  in  Fairfax’s  own  narrative,  entitled  Daemono- 
Iogia  (edited  by  William  Grainge,  Harrogate,  1882). 

222  Fairfax  says  this  message  was  delivered  to  the  grand  jury  in  his  hearing  (p. 
126). 

223  Fairfax,  p.  126. 


224  Pp.  123-127. 


64  ENGLISH  WITCHCRAFT  AND  JAMES  THE  FIRST 


some  witnesses  had  been  heard,  instructed  the  jury  that  the 
evidence  “reached  not  to  the  point  of  the  statute,”  stopped 
the  trial,  and  discharged  the  defendants.225  Thereafter  it 
was  “given  out,”  as  Fairfax  tells  us,  that  “Jeffray  and  his 
family  devised  the  practice,  to  which  they  drew  my  eldest 
daughter,  and  she  the  younger.”  Fairfax  himself  was 
exonerated.226 

Here  we  see  the  influence  of  the  king’s  precept  and  ex- 
ample at  every  turn.  The  grand  jury  was  warned  to  be 
careful,  the  judges  were  eager  to  discover  an  imposture,  and, 
thinking  they  had  done  so,  yet  not  daring  to  trust  the  jury 
to  acquit,  they  found  that  the  facts  alleged  did  not  bring  the 
case  under  the  statute  and  took  it  away  from  the  jury. 
And  finally— as  if  to  leave  to  posterity  no  doubt  whatever 
of  the  first  source  of  all  this  caution  and  circumspection  — 
Fairfax  mentions  King  James  in  the  most  unequivocal  way. 
His  narrative  is,  in  effect,  an  appeal  from  the  judges  to 
public  opinion.  His  daughters,  he  maintains,  are  certainly 
no  tricksters ; they  are  in  an  altogether  different  category 
from  “ those  whose  impostures  our  wise  king  so  lately  laid 
open.”  227 

Nor  did  the  good  effects  of  King  James’s  skeptical  temper 
and  of  the  lesson  he  taught  the  judges  cease  with  his  death. 
I can  find  but  one  execution  for  witchcraft  in  the  first  seven 
years  of  Charles  I.  Then  occurred  the  famous  case  of  the 
Lancashire  Witches  of  1633.  On  this  occasion  seventeen 
persons  were  convicted,  but  the  judge  did  not  believe  in 
their  guilt,  and  brought  the  matter  to  the  king’s  attention. 
A careful  investigation  ensued,  and  none  of  the  alleged 
witches  suffered  death.  Hitherto  this  case  has  been  regarded 
as  marking  a contrast  between  Charles’s  creed  and  practice 
and  the  acts  and  belief  of  his  father.  Mr.  Crossley,  who  is 
so  severe  on  King  James,  praises  King  Charles  warmly  for 
thus  “distinguishing  himself  ...  in  days  when  philosophy 
stumbled  and  murder  arrayed  itself  in  the  robes  of  justice 
— by  an  enlightened  exercise  of  the  kingly  prerogative  of 
mercy.”  228  Wright  remarks  that  “Charles  I.  had  not  the 
same  weak  prejudices  in  these  matters  as  his  father.”  229  It 

225  P.  127.  226  P.  124  . 227  P.  81.  228  Edition  of  Potts’s  Discoverie,  p.  Ixxvii. 

229  Narratives  of  Sorcery  and  Magic,  2.  117. 


GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 


65 


is  well  to  approve  King  Charles,  whose  personal  record  on 
this  matter  of  witchcraft  is  laudable,  but  it  must  now  be 
quite  clear  that  he  was  merely  following  his  father’s  praise- 
worthy example. 

Our  scrutiny  of  King  James’s  record  is  finished.  No  sum- 
ming up  is  necessary.  The  defendant  is  acquitted  by  the 
facts.  One  final  remark,  however,  may  be  made,  in  lieu  of 
a peroration.  Diligent  search  has  so  far  brought  to  light 
less  than  forty  executions  for  witchcraft  throughout  England 
in  the  reign  of  James  I.,  or  an  average  of  about  two  a year. 
Contrast  with  this  statement  the  fact  that  in  ten  years 
of  the  same  reign  (6-15  James  I.)  at  least  thirty-two  persons 
were  pressed  to  death  in  the  single  County  of  Middlesex 
for  refusing  to  plead  in  cases  of  felony  (not  witchcraft),  or  an 
average  of  over  three  a year,  and  that,  in  the  same  county 
for  the  same  period,  at  least  seven  hundred  persons  were 
hanged  for  felonies  other  than  witchcraft,  or  an  average  of 
seventy  a year .230  These  figures  call  for  no  commentary. 
We  may  double  or  treble  the  number  of  witch-hangings,  if 
we  will,  in  order  to  allow  for  incompleteness  in  the  published 
records,  and  it  still  remains  true  that  the  reign  of  James  I. 
was  not,  in  this  regard,  a dark  and  bloody  period. 

230  Jeaflreson,  Middlesex  County  Records,  2.  xvii.-xviii.,  liii. 

Cambridge, 

April  1,  1911. 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS:  THE 
MYTHOLOGICAL  BACKGROUND 

J.  Estlin  Carpenter 
Manchester  New  College 

“The  comparative  history  of  religion,”  says  Dr.  Windisch, 
“is  not  a history  of  borrowings.”  1 No  doubt  each  great  his- 
toric faith  develops  its  own  genius,  under  the  inspiration  of 
the  personalities,  known  or  unknown,  who  have  imparted 
to  it  the  powerful  stimulus  of  their  own  life  and  thought. 
No  doubt  also  the  foundation  of  many  of  the  widespread 
myths  to  be  encountered  in  different  parts  of  the  globe  — 
the  waste  and  darkness  of  primeval  waters  — the  world-egg 
— the  wedded  union  of  sky  and  earth  — is  to  be  sought  in 
elements  of  experience  that  are  common  to  all.  The  inter- 
pretation of  the  world  around  finds  everywhere  similar 
events  to  be  explained ; the  same  sun  rises  and  sets ; the 
same  moon  passes  through  the  same  phases ; the  same  senses 
observe  them ; the  same  thinking  power  combines  similar 
recollections  into  its  theories  of  the  universe  and  its  begin- 
nings; and  human  life,  when  it  has  advanced  beyond  its 
crudest  forms,  is  organized  in  similar  relations,  and  is  exposed 
to  the  same  vicissitudes. 

But  on  the  other  hand,  every  vigorous  stock  grows  by  con- 
tact and  suggestion  from  without.  The  vitality  of  any  re- 
ligion is  chiefly  proved  by  its  power  to  assimilate  fresh  ma- 
terials, and  reshape  them  by  its  own  plastic  force.  The 
dictum  of  Windisch  may  be  easily  reversed.  Israel  would 
have  been  poorly  furnished  with  speculations  about  primeval 
antiquity  had  it  not  borrowed  the  conceptions  of  Babylonian 
science.  But  for  the  Avestan  theodicy  its  hopes  for  the 

1 Buddha’s  Geburt  und  die  Lehre  von  der  Seelenwanderung,  p.  200,  Leipzig, 
1908. 


67 


68 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


future  would  have  taken  a very  different  form.  And  had 
not  early  Christianity  been  willing  to  receive  a loan  of  the 
highest  significance  from  Hellenic  culture,  the  destiny  of 
Europe  and  the  world  would  have  run  in  paths  beyond  our 
power  to  imagine.  No  a priori  maxims  can  govern  historical 
investigation.  There  is  always  a case  for  inquiry ; and  if 
any  one  can  prove  that  the  Gospels  owe  anything  to  the 
stories  either  of  Gilgamesh  or  of  the  Buddha,  he  will  deserve 
respectful  attention.  Doubtless  there  will  be  differences  of 
opinion  as  to  what  constitutes  proof ; and  the  number  of 
coincidences  that  will  be  admitted  to  establish  even  a proba- 
bility of  relationship  will  vary  from  mind  to  mind.  Pre- 
possessions and  prejudices  are  not  the  peculiar  property  of 
Christian  apologists. 

The  really  interesting  parallels  between  Buddhism  and 
Christianity  lie  in  the  great  development  which  transformed 
the  primitive  teaching  of  Gotama  from  a system  of  ethical 
culture,  associated  with  an  empirical  idealism,  into  a trans- 
cendental philosophy  capable  of  sustaining  a lofty  religion 
of  spiritual  communion,  expressing  itself  in  highly  organized 
worship.  The  attention  of  western  students,  however,  has 
hitherto  been  chiefly  attracted  by  the  remarkable  resem- 
blances between  incidents  in  the  careers  of  the  two  teachers, 
some  of  their  moral  precepts,  and  the  legends  which  gathered 
around  their  persons.  Founding  his  argument  partly  on  the 
Lucan  story  of  the  Nativity,  a distinguished  English  critic 
a generation  ago  felt  himself  justified  in  talking  of  the 
“obligations  of  the  New  Testament  to  Buddhism.”  The 
devoted  patience  and  the  learned  labor  of  Mr.  Albert  J. 
Edmunds  have  brought  together  a large  number  of  passages 
for  comparison,2  the  value  of  which  will  naturally  be  very 
variously  estimated.  I do  not  propose  in  this  paper  to 
discuss  either  his  method  or  his  conclusions.  Without 
attempting  to  deal  with  the  wide  range  covered  by  his 
inquiry,  I wish  to  suggest  the  possibility  of  another  line  of 
explanation  of  the  likenesses  in  the  stories  of  the  birth. 
May  it  not  be  the  case  that  there  was  a common  mythological 
background  which  supplied  a typical  form  for  national  or 


2 Buddhist  and  Christian  Gospels,  2 vols.,  4th  ed.,  Philadelphia,  1908. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


69 


local  imagination  to  cast  into  its  own  mould  and  adorn  with 
its  own  colouring  ? The  answer  to  such  a question  depends 
on  two  groups  of  considerations.  In  the  first  place,  are 
there  any  indications  of  the  diffusion  of  other  beliefs  or  ideas 
between  India  and  the  Mediterranean  lands  which  would 
justify  us  in  supposing  the  existence  of  such  a treasury  of 
mythic  representations  ? And  secondly,  is  there  any  evi- 
dence that  it  might  have  contained  a description  of  what  was 
proper  to  happen  when  a hero,  a prophet,  or  a god  was  to  be 
born  ? Only  a few  hints  and  illustrations  pointing  in  this 
direction  can  be  offered  here. 


I 

The  possibility  of  the  transmission  of  stories  between  India 
and  Western  Asia  has  long  been  recognized.  Every  one 
knows  the  tale  of  the  two  women  who  were  brought  before 
Solomon,  claiming  the  same  child.3  The  wise  judge  ordered 
the  child  to  be  divided  and  half  to  be  given  to  each  disputant. 
The  real  mother,  rather  than  see  her  babe  slain,  surrendered 
her  half  to  preserve  its  life.  In  the  Commentary  on  the 
Maha-Ummagga  Jataka  in  the  book  of  the  Buddha’s  pre- 
vious births4  there  is  a corresponding  story,  where  the  change 
of  scene  and  fresh  local  color  cannot  disguise  the  similarity. 
The  child  of  a woman  bathing  in  a tank  is  carried  off  by  an 
ogress  in  human  form.  The  mother  runs  after  her  to  re- 
cover it,  but  the  ogress  denies  her  right,  and  declares  that  the 
babe  is  her  own.  Quarrelling  loudly,  they  pass  the  door  of 
the  hall  where  the  future  Buddha  sits  in  judgment.  He  hears 
their  cries  and  summons  them  before  him.  When  their 
pleas  are  stated,  he  bids  an  attendant  draw  a line  upon  the 
ground.  The  child  is  laid  across  it ; the  ogress  is  directed 
to  lay  hold  of  its  arms,  the  mother  to  grasp  its  legs : “The 
child  shall  be  hers  who  drags  it  over  the  line.”  As  they  begin 
to  pull,  the  mother,  seeing  the  child  suffer,  lets  go  and  weeps. 
“Whose  hearts  are  tender  to  babes,”  inquires  the  “Great 
Physician,”  “those  who  have  borne  children  or  those  who  have 
not?”  The  bystanders  give  the  appropriate  answer,  and 


1 Kings  iii.  16-28. 


4 Jataka,  6.  336. 


70 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


the  infant  is  restored  to  the  true  mother.  The  dilemma  is 
the  same ; the  conclusion  is  reached  by  a similar  test  founded 
on  the  same  motive.  The  two  stories  seem  to  be  variants  of 
a common  original.  So  far  as  the  literary  record  goes,  the 
Book  of  Kings  is,  of  course,  far  the  older.  But  the  tale  might 
have  been  repeated  for  centuries  in  India  without  being 
written  down.  Did  it  come  from  there  along  with  the  apes 
and  the  ivory  which  Solomon  was  said  to  have  imported  ? 
Or  was  it  picked  up  in  Babylonia  in  the  sixth  century  when 
Israel  was  in  exile,  and  attached  to  Solomon  by  the  redactor 
of  the  traditions  of  his  wisdom  ? No  definite  answer  is 
possible,  but  the  acknowledged  Indian  origin  of  so  many 
western  folk-tales  is  in  favor  of  the  southern  reference. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  story  of  Sargon  with  its  parallel 
in  the  case  of  Moses  is  of  undoubtedly  higher  antiquity  than 
its  Indian  counterpart.  The  text  in  its  present  form  comes 
from  the  scribes  of  Assurbanipal  in  the  seventh  century 
b.c.,  but  it  is  recognized  as  a legend  of  ancient  date. 

My  lowly  mother  conceived  me,  in  secret  she  brought  me  forth. 
She  set  me  in  a basket  of  rushes,  with  bitumen  she  closed  my  door.  She 
cast  me  into  the  river,  which  rose  not  over  me.  The  river  bore  me  up, 
unto  Akki  the  irrigator  it  carried  me.  Akki  the  irrigator  . . . lifted  me 
out.  Akki  the  irrigator  as  his  own  son  reared  me,  etc.5 

A similar  tale  is  told  at  great  length  and  with  exuberant 
imagination  in  the  huge  Indian  epic,  the  Mahabharata.6 
The  lady  KuntI  has  conceived  by  Surya,  the  Sun.  When 
the  child  Kama  is  born,  he  is  placed  in  a waterproof  wicker- 
work basket,  duly  pillowed  and  sheeted,  and  the  basket  is 
set  on  the  waters  of  the  river  Asva,  whence  it  is  borne  on  its 
course  to  the  Ganges.  There  the  beautiful  lady  Radha,  who 
has  no  son,  watches  it  drifting  down  the  stream.  The  waves 
bring  it  to  the  bank;  the  babe  is  discovered  and  accepted 
as  a gift  from  the  gods ; and  the  boy  is  reared  by  Radha  and 
her  husband  in  their  own  home.  Once  more  we  encounter 
a wandering  tale  in  a new  setting,  this  time  doubtless  derived 
from  an  ancient  Mesopotamian  source. 

To  Babylonia  also  belongs  the  still  more  widespread 

5 L.  W.  King,  Chronicles  concerning  Early  Babylonian  Kings,  2.  88  (1907). 

6 Third  division,  Vana  Parva,  chapter  307,  translated  by  Dutt. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


71 


legend  of  the  Flood.  When  the  cuneiform  story  was  dis- 
covered by  one  of  the  pioneers  of  Assyriological  research, 
Mr.  George  Smith,  it  was  already  known  that  a similar  nar- 
rative, afterwards  incorporated  in  the  myths  of  Vishnu, 
existed  in  the  Brahmana  of  a Hundred  Paths.7  Manu,  the 
mythical  progenitor  of  humanity,  is  warned  by  a fish  of  a 
coming  flood.  He  is  directed  to  build  a ship  and  enter  it, 
and  the  fish  then  promises  to  save  him.  When  the  deluge 
rises,  the  fish  swims  up  to  him ; the  ship’s  rope  is  tied  to  its 
horn;  and  Manu  is  towed  in  safety  to  the  Northern  Moun- 
tain. There  he  remains  while  the  waters  sweep  away  the 
previous  race,  and  thence,  when  the  waters  subside,  he 
descends  to  become,  like  Noah,  the  sire  of  mankind.  The 
appearance  of  this  story  in  the  Brahmanical  literature  which 
preceded  the  rise  of  Buddhism  at  once  raises  unanswerable 
questions.  Was  it  part  of  the  original  stock  of  beliefs  which 
the  immigrant  Aryans  brought  with  them  and  in  due  time 
adapted  to  their  new  home,  or  was  it  a later  acquisition  which 
was  incorporated  into  the  legendary  lore  fed  from  all  sources 
after  their  settlement  ? Such  tales  unquestionably  travel 
far.  They  may  be  traced  through  Syria  and  Asia  Minor 
into  Greece,8  where  Ogyges,  Deucalion,  and  last  of  all 
Dardanos,  figure  in  turn  as  the  hero.  The  steps  of  migra- 
tion may  be  beyond  the  historian’s  ken ; but  it  can  hardly 
be  doubted  that  the  Mediterranean  stories  were  ultimately 
derived  from  a common  source  in  Babylonian  culture.  They 
enter  Greek  literature  at  a relatively  late  date,  and  Pindar 
is  the  oldest  surviving  witness.  Usener  makes  it  probable 
that  the  Deucalion  story  was  known  to  one  of  the  Hesiodic 
poets  at  the  opening  of  the  sixth  century  b.c.,9  but  in  the 
scheme  of  the  Four  Ages  the  Deluge  has  no  place. 

The  parallel  of  the  Four  Ages  of  the  Greeks  with  the  later 
Indian  series  of  Four  Yugas  has  been  familiar  since  Roth’s 
essay  in  1866,  though  his  attempt  to  carry  their  source  back 
to  the  earliest  days  of  Indo-Germanic  antiquity  does  not 

7 Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  12.  216,  translated  by  Eggeling.  Cf.  Mahabharata 
iii.  187. 

8 Cf.  Usener,  Die  Sintfluthsagen  (1899) ; Jeremias,  Das  Alte  Testament  im 
Lichte  des  alten  Orients,  p.  131  (1904) ; and  Gruppe,  Griechische  Mythologie, 
1.  443  (1906). 

9 Die  Sintfluthsagen,  p.  33. 


72 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


find  favor  with  the  present  generation  of  scholars.  Similar 
speculations  seem  traceable  in  different  forms  in  Western 
Asia.  Ewald  pointed  to  one  such  at  the  opening  of  Israel’s 
history,10  and  the  clearer  analysis  of  modern  times  follows 
it  through  the  stages  of  the  Priestly  Code,  where  the  marked 
decline  in  the  duration  of  human  life  is  the  symbol  of  the 
increasing  corruption  of  the  world.  The  Avestan  ar- 
rangement of  the  world’s  history  in  four  periods  of  three 
thousand  years  each,  terminating  in  Aliura’s  triumph, 
belongs  to  a different  scheme  of  thought,  founded  on  the 
idea  of  alternate  victories  instead  of  continuous  decline, 
though  the  number  four  may  have  been  suggested  from  the 
same  ultimate  source.  It  reappears  in  Daniel’s  presentation 
of  the  succession  of  four  world  empires  (Dan.  ii.  and  vii.), 
and  passes  on  into  later  Apocalyptic.11  Hindu,  Greek,  and 
Jew  learned  from  a common  school  in  Western  Asia. 

II 

The  programmes  of  world  history  are  closely  connected 
with  those  of  cosmography  and  eschatology,  and  in  this  field 
also  India  presents  parallels  of  no  little  interest.  The  pic- 
ture of  the  universe  implied  in  the  Vedic  hymns  is  extremely 
simple  compared  with  the  later  doctrine  of  the  Puranas. 
Above  the  earth  rises  the  atmosphere,  reaching  to  the  sky; 
above  the  sky  is  the  heaven,  the  home  of  the  gods,  the  realm 
unseen  by  mortal  eyes  but  full  of  light.  The  four  points 
of  the  compass  are  known,  and  the  earth  is  apparently  divided 
into  four  quarters  or  regions.  Its  shape,  however,  is  round, 
for  it  is  compared  to  a wheel,  and  it  is  expressly  called  cir- 
cular.12 Subsequent  representations  show  enormous  imag- 
inative development.  Long  before  the  completion  of  the 
great  cyclopaedic  poem  which  enshrines  so  much  of  the 
mythology,  philosophy,  and  religion  of  India,  or  the  still 
later  literature  of  the  Puranas,  the  Buddhist  texts  reveal  to 
us  important  phases  of  belief  varying  widely  from  Brahman- 

10  History  of  Israel,  1.  257  (3d  ed.). 

11  Cf.  Gunkel’s  note  on  Genesis  xvii.  1-14,  in  the  Handkommentar,  pp.  241-243. 

n Cf.  Macdonell,  Vedic  Mythology,  p.  9,  in  Biihler’s  Grundriss;  Wallis,  Cos- 
mology of  the  Rig  Veda,  pp.  111-117  (1887). 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


73 


ical  tradition.  The  world  of  the  devas  is  still,  indeed,  under 
the  supreme  government  of  Brahma.  But  its  ranks  are 
filled  with  groups  of  figures  unknown  to  the  theology  of  the 
sacred  books  of  antiquity.  They  rise  in  seven  orders  from 
the  Four  Great  Kings  and  their  multitudinous  attendants, 
through  the  Thirty-three  who  represent  the  venerable  Vedic 
forms,  up  to  the  sovereign  Brahma,  “Lord  of  all,  Father  of 
all  that  are  and  are  to  be.”  13  An  extensive  folklore  lies 
behind  the  lists  in  two  _Suttas  of  the  Digha  Nikaya,  the 
Mahasamaya,14  and  the  Atanatiya.15  Part  of  this  immense 
hierachy  is,  very  likely,  the  imaginative  creation  of  Buddhism, 
but  many  of  its  lower  elements  belong  to  the  sphere  of  popu- 
lar faith.  Such  are  the  various  groups  of  spirits  ruled  by 
the  Four  Great  Kings,  the  regents  of  the  four  quarters  of 
the  earth,  enumerated  in  the  Atanatiya  Sutta.  This  poem 
opens  to  us  a glimpse  into  the  early  Buddhist  view  of  the 
earth.  On  the  east  and  west  is  the  ocean  — deep,  wide- 
spread — and  on  the  north  rises  the  beautiful  Meru  with  the 
great  northern  continent  at  its  base,  where  the  happy 
dwellers  need  not  labor  for  their  food,  as  it  grows  of  its  own 
accord,  and  consequently  do  not  claim  things  as  their  own, 
or  grasp  at  possession.16 

Hound  this  mountain  gathered  all  kinds  of  pious  specu- 
lations.17 On  its  summit  was  the  heaven  of  the  Thirty -three, 
ruled  by  their  King  Sakka,  the  representative  of  the  Vedic 
Indra;  and  later  Buddhist  texts  vie  with  the  poet  of  the 
Mahabharata  in  describing  its  splendors.18  Above  it  rose 
tier  upon  tier  of  heavenly  realms,  till  the  world  of  Brahma 
himself  was  reached,  the  seventh  and  highest  order  of  Deity. 
With  its  various  grades  for  the  blessed  who  still  wore  some 

13  Among  many  similar  enumerations,  see  that  in  the  Kevaddha  Sutta  (Digha 
Nikaya,  Sutta  xi.),  translated  by  Rhys  Davids,  Dialogues  of  the  Buddha,  1.  280. 

14  Digha  Nikaya,  2.  253. 

15  Ibid.,  3.  194. 

13  ‘Amama  apariggaha,’  ibid.,  p.  199. 

17  It  was  also  known  to  the  Jains,  Sacred  Books  of  the  East,  45.  288. 

18  Indian  imagination  employs  the  same  sort  of  scenic  presentation  as  the  Apoca- 
lypse. Indra’s  city,  which  has  a thousand  gates,  according  to  the  Mahabharata, 
is  adorned  with  precious  stones,  and  there  are  trees  which  yield  all  seasons’  fruit. 
The  sun  does  not  scorch,  nor  does  heat  or  cold  or  weariness  torment.  Grief,  weak- 
ness, despondency,  are  unknown ; no  one  is  angry  or  covetous.  Cf.  Fausboll, 
Indian  Mythology,  p.  87. 


74 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


outward  form,  or  for  those  who  needed  no  external  vesture 
but  were  simple  effulgences  nurtured  on  joy,19  we  are  not  here 
concerned : they  do  not  belong  to  the  proper  Buddhist 
cosmography.  Whatever  elaboration  it  afterwards  ac- 
quired, this  seems  to  have  been  at  first  relatively  simple. 
India  was  placed  on  the  south  side  of  Mount  Meru,20  and 
the  whole  earth  was  said  to  rest  on  water,  the  water  on  wind, 
and  the  wind  on  space.21  The  region  of  the  hells  is  not  de- 
fined ; they  would  seem  to  be  located  beneath  the  earth, 
for  the  wicked  Devadatta,  like  Dathan  and  Abiram,  is 
swallowed  up  by  the  earth,  and  presumably  finds  his  way 
through  it  to  his  place  of  pain.22  But  the  entire  complex, 
with  the  earth  in  the  centre  and  all  the  ranges  for  sentient 
beings  above  and  below,  formed  a world-system  ( lolca - 
dhcltu),  and  appears  to  have  been  conceived  as  spherical. 
The  number  of  these  systems  — for  they  might  be  indefi- 
nitely multiplied  in  infinite  space  — was  unfixed.  In  the 
thousand  mentioned  in  the  Ahguttara  Nikaya,23  each  has  its 
central  mount,  the  same  four  continents  and  four  great 
oceans,  and  the  same  sevenfold  orders  of  the  gods.  The 
Buddha  could,  if  he  desired,  address  with  his  own  voice  each 
one  of  three  thousand  such  world-systems.24  And  the  num- 
ber swells  yet  further.  When  the  Kingdom  of  the  Dhamma 
is  established  at  Benares,  and  Kondanna  has  obtained  the 
holy  insight,  a shout  of  joy  arises  from  the  devas  on  earth 
through  the  whole  hierarchy  to  the  Brahma’s  realm  ; a shock 
of  sympathy  passes  through  the  entire  system  of  ten  thousand 
worlds,  and  an  immeasurable  light  fills  the  whole  universe.25 

Later  speculation  demanded  still  further  elaboration,  and 
a new  term  comes  into  view,  the  cakkavala ,26  as  the  equiva- 
lent of  the  loka-dhatu  of  the  older  texts.  Its  simple  meaning 
seems  to  be  merely  ‘ring’  or  ‘horizon.’ 27  But  it  acquired 

19  Brahmajala  Sutta,  in  Dialogues  of  the  Buddha,  1.  31. 

20  On  the  east  was  Pubba-Videha,  and  on  the  west,  Apara-Goyana ; see  Ah- 
guttara Nikaya,  1.  297 ; 5.  59. 

21  Digha  Nikaya,  2.  107,  Sacred  Books,  11.  45 ; Milinda  Panha,  p.  68,  ibid., 
35.  106. 

22  Milinda  Panha,  p.  205,  Sacred  Books,  35.  292.  Four  other  cases  of  similar 

punishment  are  named,  ibid.,  35.  153.  23  1.  227  and  5.  59. 

24  Ahguttara,  1.  128  . 25  Vinaya  Pitaka,  in  Sacred  Books,  13.  98. 

26  For  instance,  Jataka,  1.  48. 

27  Cf.  the  lexicons  and  Kern  in  the  Lotus  of  the  True  Law,  Sacred  Books,  21.  233. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


75 


a highly  technical  application.  In  the  great  ocean  flowing 
round  Meru  rose  seven  concentric  circles  of  rock,  between 
the  monarch  of  mountains  and  the  four  great  continents. 
Beyond  these  again,  with  their  encompassing  seas,  a mighty 
range  of  peaks  28  enclosed  the  whole,  and  formed  the  utmost 
limit  of  the  world.29  How  much  of  this  scheme  underlies 
the  earlier  and  simpler  presentations,  it  is  impossible  to 
determine.  The  seven  rock-circles  are  named  in  the  Jina- 
laiikara,  192.  If  that  poem  could  really  be  referred  to  the 
century  before  Asoka,30  the  whole  conception  would  belong 
to  the  period  which  witnessed  the  redaction  of  the  four  great 
Nikayas  of  the  Pali  canon.  But,  apart  from  other  consid- 
erations, the  silence  of  the  Pitakas  seems  unfavorable  to 
such  a conclusion. 

It  is  not  necessary  in  the  present  brief  study  to  discuss 
the  resemblances  or  divergences  of  the  Brahmanical  texts 
as  compared  with  those  of  Buddhism.  The  statements  of 
different  authors  vary  widely,  and  the  want  of  precision  in 
the  employment  of  particular  terms  adds  greatly  to  their 
confusion.  It  may  suffice  that  all  agree  in  placing  Meru  in 
the  middle  of  the  earth,  and  in  one  form  or  another  associate 
the  number  seven,  not  only  with  the  realms  of  the  gods 
(including  the  world  of  Brahma)  above  it,  but  with  seven 
spatial  divisions,  diversely  named,  which  surround  it.31 
Neither  in  the  Mahabharata  nor  in  the  Puranas,  however, 
is  there  any  sign  of  acquaintance  with  the  technical  termi- 
nology of  the  concentric  rock-walls.  On  the  other  hand, 
Buddhist  writers  are  silent  on  the  descent  of  the  heavenly 
Ganges,  from  the  foot  of  Vishnu,  upon  Mount  Meru,  whence, 
after  flowing  round  the  city  of  Brahma,  it  parted  into  four 
mighty  rivers  to  water  the  four  great  continents  of  the  earth.32 

The  antecedents  of  this  world-picture  are  not  hard  to 
find.  Ever  since  Jensen  described  the  Babylonian  cosmol- 
ogy,33 the  belief  has  grown  stronger  and  stronger  that  Meru 

28  Cakkavala-pabbata.  20  Cf.  Burnouf,  Le  Lotus  de  la  Bonne  Loi,  p.  842. 

30  So  Gray,  in  his  edition  of  the  text,  p.  7. 

31  Dr.  William  F.  Warren,  The  Earliest  Cosmologies,  p.  87,  supplies  an  inter- 
pretation derived  from  Hindu  sources  in  the  last  century. 

32  Vishnu  Purana,  ed.  Hall,  2.  119  f.  Other  authorities  mention  seven  streams. 
On  Genesis  ii.  10-14,  see  Gunkel,  Handkommentar,  pp.  7,  33. 

33  Kosmologie  der  Babylonier,  p.  184. 


76 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


is  no  other  than  the  great  mountain  of  the  gods  which  re- 
appears also  in  the  Iranian  scriptures,  was  within  the  view 
even  of  Hebrew  seers,34  and  had  its  counterpart  in  the  Greek 
Olympus.  The  frequent  recurrence  of  the  number  seven  is 
explained  from  the  same  source.  The  sevenfold  order  of 
the  gods,  with  their  domains  above  the  earth,  is  parallel 
though  not  identical  with  the  sevenfold  arrangement  of  the 
Babylonian  heavens,  founded  on  the  sun,  moon,  and  five 
planets.35  And  the  seven  rock-circles  round  Meru  show 
the  sacred  number  sounding  on,  as  in  the  seven  walls  encom- 
passing the  city  of  the  Mesopotamian  underworld,  or  the 
seven  walls  encircling  Ecbatana,36  till  it  dies  away  in  the  seven 
ramparts  and  seven  rows  of  palms  which  girdled  Kusavati, 
the  city  of  the  Great  King  of  Glory,37  or  the  seven  terraces 
of  Sukhavatl,  the  land  of  bliss.38  The  significant  question 
cannot  but  present  itself,  When  was  this  influence  exercised, 
and  by  what  means  ? 

No  definite  answer,  of  course,  can  be  given.  Probabilities 
only  are  within  our  reach.  One  view  assumes  a common 
Indo-Iranian  origin ; 39  another,  observing  that  the  Iranian 
months  bear  Babylonian  names,  prefers  to  explain  the  coin- 
cidences between  the  two  branches  of  Aryan  mythology  by 
independent  derivation  of  similar  suggestions  from  a common 
source.40  That  Babylonian  stories  found  their  way  to  India 
before  the  rise  of  Buddhism  is  proved  by  the  appearance  of 
the  flood  tale  in  the  Brahmana  of  a Hundred  Paths  (already 
mentioned) , which  has  no  fellow  in  the  Avestan  texts.  The 
cosmography  of  which  Meru  is  the  centre  is  quite  unknown 
to  the  Vedic  age.  There  are,  indeed,  four  “ quarters,”  corre- 
sponding to  the  four  points  of  the  compass,  increased  to  six 
in  the  Atharva-veda,41  which  appear  as  well  known  objects 

84  Isaiah  xiv.  13  is  well  known.  Cf.  Psalm  xlviii.  3;  Ezekiel  xxviii.  14.  Schra- 
der-Zimmern  (Keilinschriften  und  das  Alte  Testament,  3d  ed.,  p.  620)  find  further 
traces  in  Isaiah  ii.  2 ; Micah  iv.  1 ; Zechariah  xiv.  10  ; Revelation  xxi.  10. 

35  Oldenberg’s  suggestion  (Die  Religion  des  Veda,  1894,  p.  195)  that  the  seven 
Adityas  of  Vedic  mythology  are  due  to  Semitic  influence,  has  not  won  much  sup- 
port. 36  Herodotus,  i.  98.  37  Sacred  Books,  11.  249  f. 

38  Sacred  Books  49  (part  ii).  91.  Cf.  the  seven- walled  chamber  in  which  King 
Bimbisara  was  imprisoned  at  Raja-griha,  ibid.,  p.  161.  For  Jensen’s  comparison 
of  the  seven  keshvars  in  the  Bundehesli  and  the  seven  dvipas  of  Indian  mythology, 
see  his  Kosmologie,  pp.  176  ff.  39  So  Dr.  Warren  in  The  Earliest  Cosmologies. 

40  Cf.  Jensen,  Kosmologie,  p.  183  f.  41  Cf.  Macdonell,  Vedic  Mythology,  p.  9. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


77 


of  worship  in  the  Singalovada  Sutta.42  They  match  the  four 
kibrati  of  the  Semitic  Babylonians,43  and  have  their  analogues 
in  the  Old  Testament.44  But  the  Vedic  universe  is  extremely 
simple.  It  consists  of  three  “ worlds,”  the  earth,  the  atmos- 
phere, and  the  heaven  of  light  above  the  sky.  Beneath  is  a 
hole  or  pit,  and  the  wicked  are  thrust  down  into  the  abyss ; 
in  the  Atharva-veda  there  is  a “house  below,”  a place  of 
darkness  and  torment.  These  scanty  allusions  are  quite  in- 
consistent with  the  possession  of  an  elaborate  cosmic  scheme 
of  heavens  and  hells.  The  number  seven  is,  of  course,  of 
repeated  occurrence  in  many  connections,  and  Bergaigne  con- 
jectured a reference  to  seven  worlds  in  Rig-veda  viii.  61.  16.45 
But  these  are  unknown  to  the  treatises  in  which  the  Vedic 
ritual  was  embodied.  The  Brahmana  of  a Hundred  Paths 
still  has  only  three  worlds  to  deal  with,46  and  the  same  three 
still  constitute  the  cosmos  of  the  early  Upanishads.47  In 
those  pathetic  sketches  of  the  progress  of  the  soul  by  differ- 
ent routes  to  the  world  of  light  and  the  everlasting  home  of 
Brahman,  or  to  the  moon  and  back  through  ether,  air,  and 
rain,  to  the  earth,48  imagination  is  still  occupied  with  the 
scenery  of  our  common  life.  Even  that  pilgrimage  which 
leads  through  the  worlds  of  fire  and  air,  of  Varuna  and  Indra, 
Prajapati  and  Brahman,  knows  no  sevenfold  heaven.  The 
River  Ageless  and  the  Palace  Unconquerable  and  the  Throne 
Intelligence  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  summit  of  Meru 
or  the  yet  higher  worlds  above.  Had  this  pictorial  presenta- 
tion been  brought  by  the  Aryan  immigrants  as  part  of  their 
ancestral  inheritance  of  thought,  it  could  not  have  remained 
concealed  for  so  many  ages,  while  it  becomes  so  prominent 
in  later  times.  The  part  which  it  plays  in  Indian  literature 

42  Dlgha  Nikaya,  3.  180.  43  Jensen,  Kosmologie,  p.  173  f. 

44  Isaiah  xi.  12;  Jeremiah  xlix.  36;  Ezekiel  vii.  2;  Revelation  vii.  1,  xx.  8.  See 
Cheyne  in  Encyclopaedia  Bibliea,  2,  col.  1149. 

46  La  Religion  Vedique,  2.  140.  Others  interpret  quite  differently.  Dr.  Warren 
sees  other  indications  in  the  seven  castles  demolished  by  Indra,  Rig-veda,  vii. 
18.  13,  etc.,  and  in  the  seven  bottoms  or  foundations  of  the  (atmospheric)  ocean, 
viii.  40.  5. 

46  So  Sacred  Books,  43.  314.  But  the  world  of  the  gods  has  become  sevenfold, 
cf.  p.  277.  The  Atharva-veda  begins  to  multiply  the  series;  three  earths  and 
heavens,  Atharva-veda  iv.  20.  2;  nine  earths,  oceans,  heavens,  xi.  7.  14. 

47  Cf.  Sacred  Books,  1.  31,  70,  etc. 

48  Collected  in  Max  Muller’s  Theosophy  or  Psychological  Religion,  pp.  114  ff. 


78 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


from  the  fifth  century  onwards  makes  its  silent  retention 
for  a previous  millennium  quite  inexplicable. 

Ill 

These  considerations  may  be  reinforced  from  another 
side.  The  same  sources  which  first  portray  for  us  the  stately 
form  of  the  “ monarch  of  mountains,”  tell  us  also  that  even 
he  will  perish.49  The  Buddhist  texts  are  never  weary  of 
the  central  theme  of  ‘impermanence.’  Whatever  is  com- 
posite must  be  dissolved,  and  the  universe  itself  was  no  ex- 
ception. Over  the  solid  earth  and  all  its  contents  was  written 
the  doom  of  destruction.  The  conception  which  has  slowly 
been  applied  to  human  destiny,  death,  rebirth,  redeath,  and 
rebirth  again  under  the  law  of  the  Deed  (karma),  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  physical  world.  The  visible  scene  provided 
the  field  on  which  the  principle  of  Karma  was  worked  out ; 
and  the  same  consequence  of  origination  and  decay  attached 
to  it.  The  terminology  of  this  process  is  already  fully  de- 
veloped in  the  Buddhist  texts.  Time  is  reckoned  by  vast 
periods  in  which  the  world  unrolls  itself  out  of  darkness  and 
chaos,  runs  through  its  appointed  cycle  of  development  and 
decline,  and  comes  in  due  course  to  its  destined  end.50  The 
evolution  of  our  existing  scene  after  such  an  interval  of 
silence,  gloom,  and  waste,  is  described  in  the  Aggafma  Sutta,51 
which  further  sketches  the  origin  of  the  human  race,  the  be- 
ginning of  evil  conduct,  and  the  rise  of  social  distinctions. 
These  periods  correspond  in  the  later  theology  to  the  slum- 
ber and  the  waking  of  Brahma,52  and  the  world-destruction 
is  accomplished  by  fire  or  water.53  The  great  conflagration 
or  the  mighty  deluge  serves  to  point  an  image  for  the  Bud- 
dhist poets  also.54  But  the  belief  was  much  more  than  a 
decorative  device.  It  plays  a significant  part  in  Indian 
eschatology,  and  enters  literature  with  full  detail  in  the 


49  Samyutta,  3.  149:  ‘the  ocean,  Sineru,  king  of  mountains,  and  the  earth  will 
one  day  perish  and  cease  to  be.”  60  Cf.  Sacred  Books,  11.  216. 

51  Dlgha  Nikaya,  3.  84.  52  Cf.  Manu,  Sacred  Books,  25.  17. 

53  A third  agency,  wind,  was  afterwards  added. 

54  Buddha-Carita,  xiii.  41,  in  Sacred  Books,  49.  143;  Lotus,  ibid.,  21.  241;  Life 
of  Buddha  from  the  Chinese,  ibid.,  19.  309. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


79 


Buddhist  Pitakas.  The  process  is  described  in  a discourse 
attributed  to  the  Buddha  in  the  Anguttara  Nikaya.55  Cu- 
riously enough,  it  occupies  a place  in  his  career  not  unlike 
the  eschatological  prophecy  of  Mark  xiii.  in  that  of  Jesus. 
His  life  is  nearing  its  end ; he  is  sojourning  in  the  grove 
presented  to  the  Order  by  the  courtesan  Ambapali  in  the  last 
year  of  his  long  ministry ; 56  and  he  must  impress  on  his 
disciples  the  fundamental  truth  that  all  things  which  have 
come  together  must  pass  away.  Even  Sineru  with  its  vast 
mass,  eighty-four  thousand  leagues  beneath  the  ocean  and 
eighty-four  thousand  more  in  height  above  it,  must  cease 
to  be.  A time  will  come  when  it  will  rain  no  more,  and  plants, 
herbs,  and  trees  will  wither  away.  A second  sun  will  ap- 
pear, and  brooks  and  ponds  will  dry  up.  With  a third  sun, 
the  great  rivers  like  the  Ganges  and  the  Jumna  will  fail. 
At  the  advent  of  the  fourth,  the  mythologic  lakes  which 
were  their  sources  will  be  exhausted.  The  fifth  will  reduce 
the  waters  of  the  great  ocean  to  the  depth  of  a finger-joint. 
The  sixth  will  make  the  earth  and  Meru  belch  forth  clouds 
of  smoke ; and  with  the  seventh  all  the  tiers  of  heavens  up 
to  the  Brahma  world  will  be  ablaze,  and  the  whole  universe 
will  be  consumed.57  In  the  vast  mass  of  literature  piled  on 
the  Veda  there  is  nothing  like  this.58  Whence  came  the  con- 
ception of  a great  world-conflagration  ? Destruction  by 
water  was  already  borrowed  from  Babylonia,  though  it  was 
not  conceived  on  the  same  cosmic  scale,  or  connected  with 
a doctrine  of  world-ages.  Are  we  to  look  beyond  the  Hi- 
malaya for  its  counterpart  by  fire  ? 

No  such  doctrine  has  yet  been  discovered  in  any  cunei- 
form text.  But  indications  are  not  wanting,  nevertheless, 
that  it  had  a home  in  Western  Asia.  The  New  Testament 
presents  us  with  a division  of  time  into  great  world-periods, 

55  Anguttara  Nikaya,  4.  100.  Translated  by  Edmunds,  Buddhist  and  Christian 
Gospels,  2.  147  (4th  ed.).  66  Sacred  Books,  11.  33. 

57  Cf.  Henry  C.  Warren’s  version  from  the  later  text  of  the  ‘Path  of  Purity,’ 
in  Buddhism  in  Translations,  pp.  321  ff., where  the  catastrophe  involves  a million 
million  worlds.  For  another  development,  including  fire  and  flood  and  wind,  see 
the  Nirvana  Sutra  in  Beal’s  Catena,  p.  170. 

58  In  the  Atharva-veda,  x.  10.  39,  “As  between  heaven-and-earth  Agni  went, 
burning  on,  all  consuming”  (Whitney-Lanman),  Keith  finds  an  allusion  to  this 
doctrine  of  the  periodic  destruction  and  renewal  of  the  world,  Journal  of  the  Royal 
Asiatic  Society,  1909,  p.  599. 


80 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


the  age  that  now  is,  and  the  age  that  is  to  come ; and  specu- 
lation concerned  itself  largely  with  the  events  which  would 
mark  the  transition.  One  great  catastrophe  had  already 
taken  place  in  the  distant  past,  the  Deluge.  What  would 
prepare  the  way  for  the  next  era  ? The  author  of  2 Peter, 
following  a succession  of  apocalyptists,  answered  ‘Fire.’59 
It  was  an  expectation  already  stamped  with  the  sanction  of 
the  past.  The  historian  Josephus  ascribes  the  invention 
of  astronomy  to  the  children  of  Seth,  and  relates  a curious 
story  of  the  measures  taken  to  preserve  their  discovery.60 
When  Adam  predicted  that  the  world  would  be  destroyed  at 
one  time  by  the  force  of  fire,  and  at  another  by  the  violence 
of  water,  they  made  two  pillars,  one  of  brick  and  one  of  stone, 
on  both  of  which  they  inscribed  the  knowledge  they  had  won. 
If  the  brick  pillar  were  destroyed  by  the  flood,  the  stone 
pillar  might  still  preserve  the  record;  “and  it  remains,” 
adds  Josephus,  boldly,  “in  the  land  of  Siris  to  this  day.” 
The  attribution  of  this  prophecy  to  the  wisdom  of  the  first 
man  implies  that  it  was  derived  from  remote  antiquity. 
There  is  at  any  rate  good  reason  to  think  that  it  may  have 
belonged  to  the  ancient  Babylonian  cosmology.  In  the 
Naturales  Qutestiones  of  Seneca  (iii.  29),  the  Roman  philos- 
opher reports  some  of  the  opinions  of  Berosus,  the  famous 
priest  of  Bel  in  Babylon,  whose  statue  was  erected  by  the 
Athenians,  says  Pliny,  with  a gilt  tongue  in  honor  of  his 
extraordinary  predictions.  Born  in  the  reign  of  Alexander 
the  Great,  he  composed  his  three  books  of  Babylonica  under 
Antiochus  II.,  who  came  to  the  throne  in  261  b.c.  Many  of 
the  statements  of  Berosus  have  been  justified  by  recent  in- 
vestigators ; and  his  use  of  cuneiform  materials  is  fully 
admitted.  Now  Berosus,  says  Seneca,  taught  on  astronom- 
ical grounds  a doctrine  of  a great  world-year,  which  would 
end  in  one  case  with  a flood  (diluvium),  and  in  the  other  with 
a fire  (conflagratio) . It  has  been  held  that  this  conception 
was  founded  on  the  observation  of  the  precession  of  the  equi- 
noxes, which  is  erroneously  asserted  to  have  been  known  to 
the  Babylonian  astronomers.  In  the  world’s  great  year,  the 
deluge  would  mark  the  winter  and  the  fire  the  summer. 


69  iii.  5-7,  10. 


60  Antiquities,  i.  2,  3. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


81 


There  are  traces  of  a Babylonian  cycle  of  36,000  years ; 61 
and  there  is  a high  probability  that  the  doctrine?  reported 
by  Berosus  belonged  to  a scheme  already  millenniums  old. 

In  the  book  of  Genesis  the  Deluge  closes  the  epoch  of 
primeval  man.  The  destruction  of  the  whole  race  save 
Noah  and  his  family  plainly  implies  the  closing  of  one  age 
and  the  opening  of  a successor.  The  flood,  it  is  divinely 
promised,  shall  not  be  repeated.  But  in  Hebrew  prophecy, 
as  Gressmann  has  so  brilliantly  shown,62  a new  element 
appears  — a great  world-conflagration.63  The  word  of 
Yahweh  to  Micah  opens  with  a summons  to  the  peoples,  a 
challenge  to  the  whole  earth.  Yahweh  is  about  to  come 
forth  to  the  vast  assize  where  he  is  both  witness  and  judge. 
From  the  heavenly  sanctuary  he  will  descend  to  tread  on 
the  high  places  of  the  earth.  Fire  follows  in  his  steps; 
the  mountains  shall  be  molten  under  him,64  and  the  valleys 
shall  be  cleft  like  wax.  Jeremiah  saw  the  world  relapsing 
into  primeval  chaos,  tohu-va-bohu,  iv.  23  ; one  era  was  ending, 
another  would  begin.  Zephaniah  announced  the  “day  of 
wrath”  when  all  the  earth  should  be  consumed  with  the  fire 
of  the  divine  jealousy.  In  the  exilian  and  subsequent  litera- 
ture the  expectation  blazes  more  fiercely  still.  Not  the  earth 
alone,  but  heaven  itself  and  the  deeps  of  Sheol  will  feel  the 
flame.  The  world  comes  to  an  end  by  fire,  and  a new  heaven 
and  a new  earth  are  needed.  The  doctrine  of  world-periods  is 
not  yet  defined ; it  is  left  for  apocalyptists  to  work  out  details. 

Yet  further  west,  along  the  coasts  of  Asia  Minor,  does  this 
expectation  travel.  No  Greek  teacher  employed  it  as  an 
avenging  weapon  of  divine  government,  after  the  manner  of 
a Hebrew  seer,  but  it  was  early  lodged  in  Hellenic  thought. 
The  Ionic  philosophers  were  largely  concerned  with  physical 
inquiries ; they  brooded  over  problems  of  the  periodic 
destruction  and  reconstitution  of  the  world.  Heraclitus  of 
Ephesus  and  Hippasus  of  Metapontum  were  credited  with 

61  Schrader-Zimmern,  Keilinschriften  und  das  Alte  Testament,  p.  333  (3d  ed.) ; 
Hilprecht  in  the  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society,  1908,  p.  708. 

62  Der  Ursprung  der  Israelitisch-Jiidischen  Eschatologie  (1905). 

63  It  is  worth  observing  that  in  Isaiah  xxx.  26  (secondary,  see  Duhm  in  loc.) 
the  expander,  or  his  glosser,  does  not  realize  that  a sun  seven  times  as  bright  might 
also  be  seven  times  as  hot. 

64  A special  feature  of  the  Iranian  eschatology.  Sacred  Books,  5.  125. 


82 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


teaching  the  dissolution  of  all  things  by  fire  at  a fixed  time 
under  a necessary  law ; 65  and  Heraclitus  is  said  to  have 
recognised  a great  world-year,  of  either  10,800  or  18,000  solar 
years  in  length.  Whether  he  actually  used  the  later  term 
i/cjrvpcocns  cannot  be  definitely  proved.  But  Zeller  regards 
the  idea  of  the  world-conflagration  as  firmly  lodged,  from 
the  sixth  century  onwards,  in  the  philosophical  eschatology 
of  Greece.66  Was  this  also,  like  the  Deluge  stories,  drawn 
from  the  abundant  reservoir  of  Babylonian  speculation  ? 

The  existence  of  some  common  elements  of  eschatological 
belief  between  India  and  the  West  finds  further  illustration 
in  the  pictures  of  social  disorder  which  would  indicate  the 
near  approach  of  the  end.  There  are,  of  course,  widely 
marked  differences  both  of  general  conception  and  particular 
detail.  But  beneath  these  variations  there  are  also  singu- 
lar resemblances,  which  suggest  the  influence  of  similar  ideas 
and  the  operation  of  cognate  though  not  identical  motives. 
When  Jesus  says  in  the  Gospels,  “I  came  to  set  a man  at 
variance  against  his  father,  and  the  daughter  against  her 
mother,  and  the  daughter-in-law  against  her  mother-in-law, 
and  a man’s  foes  shall  be  they  of  his  own  household  ” (Mat- 
thew x.  35),  his  language  obviously  recalls  that  of  Micah 
vii.  6,  “the  son  dishonoureth  the  father,  the  daughter 
riseth  up  against  her  mother,  the  daughter-in-law  against 
her  mother-in-law ; a man's  enemies  are  the  men  of  his  own 
house.”  But  the  language  of  Micah,  in  its  turn,  is  parallel 
with  that  in  which  Babylonian  texts  appear  to  dwell  on  in- 
crease of  social  disorder  as  signs  of  impending  change. 
“Then  shall  brother  devour  brother,  people  shall  sell  their 
children  for  gold,  the  lands  shall  fall  into  general  confusion, 
the  husband  shall  leave  the  wife,  and  the  wife  the  husband, 
the  mother  shall  bar  the  doors  against  the  daughter.”  x\nd 
again — -“Brother  shall  devour  brother,  the  son  the  father 
like  . . . the  mother  the  daughter,  the  bride  the  . . .”  67 
In  the  myth  of  Atarhasis,  the  age  which  closes  with  a judg- 


65  Diels,  Fragmente  der  Vorsokratiker,  1.  58,  71  (1906). 

66  Pre-Socratic  Philosophy,  2.  73-77.  Burnet,  on  the  other  hand.  Early  Greek 
Philosophy,  p.  178  (2d  ed.,  1908),  argues  that  it  contradicts  the  central  idea  of  the 
Heraclitan  system. 

67  Jeremjas,  Babylonisches  im  Neuen  Testamente,  p.  97  (1905). 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


83 


ment  in  the  shape  of  the  deluge  and  is  followed  by  the  new 
world-epoch,  is  preceded  by  evil  years,  in  which  men  show 
enmity  to  each  other,  “the  mother  opens  not  the  door  to  her 
daughter,  one  house  devours  another,”  etc.  Micah  repro- 
duced commonplaces  of  family  disorganization  as  the  pre- 
cursors of  an  approaching  cosmic  event : and  Gressmann 
directed  his  argument  to  show  that  such  parallels  implied 
the  existence  of  a body  of  eschatological  doctrine  in  Baby- 
lonia of  high  antiquity,  connected  in  one  set  of  texts,  at  any 
rate,  with  a theory  of  the  destruction  of  the  world,  the 
particular  agency  in  this  case  being  the  Flood. 

The  story  of  the  Deluge  incorporated  in  the  Brahmana 
of  a Hundred  Paths  contains  no  such  description  of  prior 
moral  disorders.  Nor  does  the  Buddha  foretell  any  social 
or  cosmic  catastrophes  before  the  appearance  of  the  seven 
suns.  The  general  cyclic  conception  of  growth  and  decay 
was  naturally  applied  to  his  own  institutions.  In  a dis- 
course on  the  ‘Five  Dangers  of  the  Future,’  recommended 
for  study  in  the  Bhabra  Edict  of  the  Emperor  Asoka,  he 
anticipates  the  deterioration  of  character  which  will  beset 
the  members  of  the  Order,  their  loss  of  self-control,  the 
growth  of  luxury  and  appetite,  the  evils  engendered  by 
rival  claims  to  distinction,  the  increase  of  comfort,  and  the 
demand  for  fine  robes.  The  danger  of  such  decline  is  em- 
phasized in  highly  mythological  form  in  the  Cakkavatti 
Sutta,68  which  relates  the  decline  of  human  life  from  a 
duration  of  84,000  years  to  ten,  through  the  increase  of  every 
kind  of  sin,  and  its  gradual  recovery  by  the  return  to  well- 
doing till  it  reaches  its  former  maximum  of  length,  when 
Metteyya,  the  beautiful  impersonation  of  Buddhist  charity, 
the  Buddha-to-be,  will  inaugurate  a fresh  period  of  truth 
and  righteousness.  More  significant,  however,  is  the  picture 
in  the  Mahabharata  of  the  distresses  which  will  mark  the 
decrepitude  of  the  last  of  the  Four  Ages  as  the  appointed  life- 
time of  the  world  runs  out.69  The  course  of  the  world  will 


68  Digha  Nikaya,  3.  68. 

6S  Two  separate  descriptions  occur  in  the  Vana  Parva,  chapters  188  and  190.  It 
is  impossible  here  to  discuss  their  relations,  or  to  dwell  on  the  significance  of  Kalkl, 
the  restorer  of  order  and  peace,  the  righteous  king,  and  maker  of  a new  age,  chap- 
ters 190-191. 


84 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


be  subverted  and  the  signs  of  the  universal  dissolution  will 
draw  nigh.  With  the  increase  of  every  kind  of  moral  dis- 
organization, life  will  grow  shorter  and  strength  will  decline. 
Barbarian  kings  will  rule  over  the  earth  and  govern  their 
subjects  on  false  principles.  Brahmans  will  abandon  their 
religious  duties,  and  sacrifice  and  prayer  will  be  neglected. 
Ignorance,  drunkenness,  and  deceit  will  infest  the  earth. 
The  rains  will  be  withheld  ; no  seed  will  sprout ; famine  will 
breed  starvation,  and  hunger  will  dissolve  the  closest  ties. 
The  different  “quarters”  will  break  out  in  flame;  the  stars 
and  constellations  will  lose  their  brightness ; the  courses  of 
the  wind  will  be  confused ; innumerable  meteors  will  flash 
through  the  sky ; and  from  his  rising  to  his  setting  the  sun 
will  be  eclipsed.70  Here  are  the  familiar  features  of  the 
apocalyptic  expectations  of  Western  Asia,  applied  to  new 
scenes  and  adapted  to  a different  social  and  religious  en- 
vironment. But  the  essential  ideas  are  identical.  How  is 
this  identity  to  be  explained  except  by  the  stimulus  of  a 
common  thought  ? 71 


IV 

By  what  channels  such  imaginative  suggestions  passed 
from  land  to  land  it  is  now  of  course  impossible  to  deter- 
mine. But  a number  of  indications  converge  upon  the  gen- 
eral conclusion  that  commercial  intercourse  had  a wider 
range  than  was  formerly  supposed,  and  carried  with  it  more 
possibilities  of  intellectual  exchange  than  we  associate  with 
the  trading  vessels  or  merchant  enterprises  of  the  present 
day.  India  was  by  no  means  a closed  or  inaccessible  coun- 
try. Palaeography  derives  the  earliest  Indian  alphabet 


70  Vana  Parva,  chapter  190,  verses  76-79. 

71  Another  curious  parallel  has  recently  been  discovered  in  a book  of  Egyptian 
prophecies,  attributed  to  Apoui,  a prophet  of  the  twelfth  dynasty.  Here,  too,  is  a 
scheme  of  social  dissolution,  religious  neglect,  famine,  epidemics,  invasion  and 
massacre,  the  rivers  turned  to  blood,  etc.  The  period  of  degeneration  does  not 
appear  to  be  connected  with  a programme  of  world-ages,  and  no  cosmic  portents 
herald  the  collapse  of  the  universe.  A triumphant  prosperity  will  be  restored  on 
the  advent  of  an  ideal  sovereign,  who  is  “the  shepherd  of  all  men,  who  has  no  evil 
in  his  heart,  and  when  his  flock  goes  astray,  spends  the  day  in  seeking  it.”  Maspero, 
New  Light  on  Ancient  Egypt,  translated  by  Miss  Lee,  p.  231  (1908). 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


85 


from  Semitic  sources  about  800  b.c.,72  whether  by  the  passes 
of  the  Hindu  Kush,  or  more  probably  by  sea.  The  reports 
of  Solomon’s  trade  have  been  already  mentioned.  The 
Hebrew  word  qoph,  ‘ape,’  is  an  Indian  name  (Sanskrit 
kapi,  Egyptian  gofe  and  gif,  Greek  Kg/3o<;  and  k^tto?)  ; 73 
while  the  peacock,  tukki,  seems  to  correspond  with  the  Mala- 
bar toghai.  One  of  the  Buddhist  Jatakas  actually  tells  a 
story  of  a peacock  sent  by  ship  to  the  kingdom  of  Baveru 
(Babel,  Babylon).74  The  peacock,  too,  was  known  in  Greece, 
where  Aristophanes  contrasted  it,  under  the  name  r aw? 
(or  raw?  as  the  Athenians  are  said  to  have  tried  to  pro- 
nounce it),  with  the  common  fowl.  An  Indian  elephant  is 
figured  on  an  obelisk  of  Shalmanassar  in  the  ninth  century. 
Nebuchadrezzar  employed  Indian  cedar  in  his  palace  at  Birs 
Nimrud.75  Hilprecht  found  indications  of  Indian  settle- 
ments in  Babylonia  under  Artaxerxes  I.  in  the  fifth  century.76 
Rice,  which  the  Greeks  spoke  of  as  Indians’  food,  was  known 
as  early  as  Sophocles  (6ph8r]<;  apros,  bread  made  of  opv^a),77 
and  its  name  opv%a  is  identified  with  the  Tamil  arisi.  Nor 
were  these  the  only  products  transmitted  from  the  East  to 
the  West.  Plato  seems  acquainted  with  the  fable  of  the  ass 
in  the  lion’s  skin ; 78  and  in  the  Alcibiades  I.  123  there  is  an 
allusion  to  the  iEsopic  fable  of  the  fox  and  the  lion  — “ the 
prints  of  the  feet  of  those  going  in  are  distinct  enough.”  In 
discussing  the  similar  story  of  the  jackal  and  the  lion  in  the 
great  Indian  collection  of  the  Pancatantra,  Benfey  argued  79 
that  the  Hindus  derived  the  tale  from  the  Greeks  after 
Alexander’s  conquest.  But  the  essential  element  is  now 

72  Biihler,  Indisehe  Palaeographie,  p.  17  (1898).  On  the  questions  raised  by 
Winckler’s  discoveries  at  Boghaz  Koi  in  the  summer  of  1907,  see  papers  by 
Professors  Jacobi  and  Oldenberg,  Messrs.  Berriedale  Keith  and  Kennedy,  in  the 
Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society,  1909. 

73  Gesenius- Brown,  Hebrew  and  English  Lexicon. 

74  Jataka,  3.  339. 

75  A piece  is  preserved  in  the  British  Museum.  See  Kennedy,  4 Early  Commerce 
of  Babylon  with  India,’  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society,  1898,  p.  266. 

76  Dr.  Langdon  kindly  informs  me  that  as  the  Hindus  in  question  bore  Semitic 
names,  they  had  probably  been  there  for  at  least  three  generations. 

77  Liddell  and  Scott,  s.v.  See  also  Kennedy,  op.  cit.,  p.  268.  Indians  followed 
Xerxes  into  Europe,  Herodotus  vii,  65,  86,  and  remained  with  Mardonios  in 
Hellas,  viii.  113,  ix.  31 ; cf.  iii.  38,  98-117,  iv.  44  (Macan’s  Herodotus). 

78  Cratylus,  411;  Jataka,  2.  189. 

79  Pantschatantra,  1.  381. 


86 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


found  in  the  Buddhist  Jatakas,  No.  6, 80  though  in  a wholly 
different  setting,  and  the  story  is  believed  to  be  of  Indian 
origin.  Questions  of  profound  interest  arise  in  connexion 
with  other  resemblances  between  Indian  and  early  Greek 
thought  besides  the  doctrine  of  the  world-conflagration. 
A century  ago  Colebrooke  called  attention  to  resemblances 
between  phases  of  early  Indian  thought  and  the  speculations 
of  the  Eleatic  school.  Garhe  and  Hopkins  have  both  recog- 
nized Indian  influence  in  Greece.  The  recent  investigations 
of  Keith  have  greatly  weakened,  if  they  have  not  entirely 
discredited,  von  Schroeder’s  plea  for  the  partial  dependence 
of  Pythagoras  on  teachings  from  the  East ; 81  but  he  expressly 
reserves  his  judgment  in  the  case  of  the  complex  elements 
gathered  under  the  name  of  Orphism.  Ever  since  the  dis- 
covery of  the  gold  plate  at  Petelia  in  Lower  Italy,  with  its 
reference  to  “escape  from  the  sorrowful  weary  wheel,”  82 
there  has  been  a growing  belief  that  Orphism  cannot  be  wholly 
explained  from  Mediterranean  sources ; and  among  foreign 
possibilities  the  natural  home  of  such  a view  of  life  is  India. 

V 

The  considerations  thus  briefly  adduced  suggest  (1)  that 
Babylonian  influences  reached  India  as  well  as  Syria  and 
Greece ; and  that  the  Hindu,  the  Hebrew,  and  the  Hellene  all 
profited  by  a common  wisdom.  But  (2)  they  further  point 
to  a more  direct  if  scanty  communication  with  Greek  spheres 
alike  of  trade  and  thought.  Was  that  transmission  all  con- 
fined to  one  side  ? The  late  traditions  which  vaguely  sup- 
posed Thales,  Empedocles,  or  Anaxagoras  to  have  travelled 
in  the  East,  and  definitely  sent  Democritus  and  Pythagoras 

80  Buddhist  Birth  Stories,  translated  by  T.  W.  Rhys  Davids,  1.  182  (1880). 
Dr.  Macan  (Master  of  University  College,  Oxford)  kindly  calls  my  attention  to 
the  parallel  between  the  story  of  the  Dancing  Peacock  (Nacca-Jataka,  translated  by 
Chalmers,  The  Jataka,  ed.  Cowell,  i.  83,  1895),  and  the  Herodotean  tale  of  the  mis- 
conduct of  Hippokleides  (Hdt.  vi.  126-30.  See  Macan’s  Herodotus,  ii.  304). 

81  Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society,  1909. 

82  The  series  of  tablets  can  be  most  easily  consulted  by  the  English-speaking 
student  in  Miss  Jane  Harrison’s  Prolegomena  to  the  Study  of  Greek  Religion, 
chapter  11.  Cf.  Diels,  Fragmente  der  Vorsokratiker,  2.  480.  The  later  language 
about  the  “wheel  (or  circle)  of  birth,”  the  “wheel  of  necessity,”  the  “wheel  (rpoxos) 
of  destiny,”  seems  to  point  to  the  samsara. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


87 


to  India,  may  deserve  little  credit.  But  they  at  least  imply 
a belief  in  possibilities  of  intercourse  such  as  were  open  in 
their  own  day;  and  if  the  popular  tale  might  pass  on  the 
lips  of  sailors  or  merchants  from  the  Punjaub  to  the  iEgean, 
there  appears  no  reason  why  that  process  should  not  occa- 
sionally operate  the  other  way. 

Now  the  Homeric  Hymn  to  Apollo  ( ? circa  800  b.c.) 
contains  a very  remarkable  story  of  the  god’s  nativity. 
It  is  thus  translated  by  Mr.  Andrew  Lang.  (Eileithyia  has 
arrived  in  Delos  to  aid  the  lady  mother  Leto.) 

Even  when  Eileithyia,  the  helper  in  sore  travailing, 
set  foot  in  Delos,  then  labour  took  hold  on  Leto,  and 
a passion  to  bring  to  the  birth.  Around  a palm-tree 
she  cast  her  arms,  and  set  her  knees  on  the  soft  meadow, 
while  earth  beneath  smiled,  and  forth  leaped  the  babe 
to  light,  and  all  the  Goddesses  raised  a cry.  Then,  great 
Phoebus,  the  Goddesses  washed  thee  in  fair  water,  holy 
and  purely,  and  wound  thee  in  white  swaddling  bands, 
delicate,  new  woven,  with  a golden  girdle  round  thee. 
Nor  did  his  mother  suckle  Apollo  the  golden-s worded, 
but  Themis  with  immortal  hands  first  touched  his  lips 
with  nectar  and  sweet  ambrosia,  while  Leto  rejoiced,  in 
that  she  had  borne  her  strong  son,  the  bearer  of  the  bow. 
Then,  Phoebus,  as  soon  as  thou  hadst  tasted  the  food 
of  Paradise,  the  golden  bands  were  not  proof  against  thy 
pantings,  nor  bonds  could  bind  thee,  but  all  their  ends 
were  loosened.  Straightway  among  the  Goddesses  spoke 
Phoebus  Apollo:  ‘Mine  be  the  dear  lyre  and  bended 
bow,  and  I will  utter  to  men  the  unerring  counsel  of 
Zeus.’ 

So  speaking  he  began  to  fare  over  the  wide  ways  of 
earth,  Phoebus  of  the  locks  unshorn,  Phoebus  the  Far- 
darter.  Thereon  all  the  Goddesses  were  in  amaze,  and 
all  Delos  blossomed  with  gold,  as  when  a liill-top  is 
heavy  with  woodland  flowers.83 

It  is  a long  way  from  Delos  to  the  Lumbinl  garden,  the 
traditional  scene  of  the  birth  of  Gotama,  the  future  Buddha. 

83  Cf.  Theognis,  5-10,  who  adds  that  Delos  was  filled  with  ambrosial  odor; 
earth  laughed  and  ocean  rejoiced. 


88 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


The  spot  is  guaranteed  to  the  pious  disciple  of  to-day  by 
the  discovery,  in  1896,  of  a pillar  erected  by  the  Emperor 
Asoka  in  reverent  commemoration,  about  the  year  243-242 
B.c.  There,  according  to  the  story  in  the  Nidana-katha, 
the  Introduction  to  the  Commentary  on  the  Jataka-book, 
the  lady  mother  Maya  was  delivered  of  her  son.  It  is  a 
singular  illustration  of  the  indifference  of  the  Indian  genius 
to  biographical  detail  that  the  vast  collection  of  the  ancient 
scriptures  contains  no  life  of  the  Buddha  comparable  to  one 
of  the  Christian  Gospels.  The  story  of  his  life  prior  to  the 
great  Enlightenment  is  apparently  assumed ; 84  and  the  first 
continuous  narrative  is  several  centuries  later  than  the  canon 
in  actual  record.  But  its  most  characteristic  features  are 
after  all  guaranteed  as  elements  of  great  antiquity,  partly 
by  the  representation  of  some  of  them  in  sculptures  of  the 
third  century  b.c.,  and  partly  by  their  occurrence  within 
the  canon  itself  in  a recital  of  the  early  history  of  VipassI, 
the  first  of  a series  of  seven  Buddhas,  of  whom  the  historical 
Gotama  was  the  last.  The  frequent  verbal  coincidence 
between  this  narrative 85  and  that  of  the  Nidana-katha 
renders  it  certain  that  they  both  rest  on  an  earlier  record 
of  Gotama’s  birth  and  youth,  which  has  disappeared.86 

The  incidents  of  the  birth-legend  are  well  known.87  The 
lady  mother,  Maya,  perceiving  that  her  time  is  near  at  hand, 
is  on  a journey  to  the  city  of  her  own  people.  Upon  the  way 
she  rests  in  the  LumbinI  grove,  and  there  the  hour  arrives. 
Like  the  mother  of  Apollo,  she  clasps  the  branch  of  a tree, 
which  bends  down  for  her  to  grasp  it ; 88  and  as  she  stands 
supported  by  it,  the  future  Buddha  arises  from  within,  and 
issues  from  her  right  side,  pure  and  fair.  Four  great  devas 
of  the  order  of  Brahma  receive  him,  like  the  goddesses  who 

84  There  are  some  important  references  to  it  in  the  enumeration  of  eight  occa- 
sions of  earthquakes.  Sacred  Books,  11.  46. 

85  In  the  Mahapadana  Suttanta,  Dlgha  Nikaya,  2.  12  ff. 

85  The  proof  cannot  be  given  here ; but  I am  glad  to  be  supported  in  this  con- 
clusion, formed  after  editing  the  text  of  the  Mahapadana  Suttanta,  by  the  high 
authority  of  Windisch,  Buddha’s  Geburt,  pp.  90  ff.  (1908). 

87  These  are  related  in  abstract  form  as  the  characteristic  events  of  the  birth 
of  any  Buddha,  Majjhima  Nikaya,  3.  118-124.  Cf.  Edmunds,  Buddhist  and 
Christian  Gospels,  1.  169  (1908,  4th  ed.).  The  narrative  of  the  Nidana-katha  was 
Uanslated  by  Professor  T.  W.  Rhys  Davids,  Buddhist  Birth  Stories,  1.  65ff.  (1880). 

83  Cf.  Foucher,  L’Art  Greco-Bouddhique  de  Gandhara,  pp.  301  ff.  (1905). 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


89 


welcomed  Leto’s  babe.  Two  magic  streams,  one  of  cold 
water  and  one  of  warm,  descend  from  the  sky,  in  which, 
like  the  infant  Apollo,  the  newborn  babe  is  washed.  In 
a Chinese  version 89  Indra  provides  a garment  of  the  finest 
muslin,  and  wraps  him  in  swaddling  clothes,  as  the  attendant 
goddesses  wound  the  young  Greek  god.  But  they  can  no 
more  confine  a future  Buddha  than  they  could  a son  of 
Zeus,  and  the  destined  teacher,  who  left  the  womb  “ like  a 
preacher  descending  from  a pulpit,”  stands  erect,  and  an- 
nounces his  supremacy  over  all  existing  beings,  just  as  Apollo 
proclaimed  his  future  function  to  reveal  the  will  of  Heaven 
to  man.  And  just  as  Apollo  set  forth  to  fare  over  the  wide 
ways  of  earth,  so  did  the  future  Buddha,  after  surveying  the 
world  at  all  points  of  the  compass  from  the  zenith  to  the 
nadir,  take  seven  strides,  symbolic  of  his  spiritual  sovereignty. 
If  for  the  Greek  poet  the  earth  smiled,  and  all  Delos  blos- 
somed with  golden  bloom,  so  Indian  imagination  saw  flowers 
break  out  over  land  and  water,  while  an  immeasurable  light 
filled  the  ten  thousand  worlds.90 

The  resemblances  between  these  two  presentations  may 
no  doubt  be  overestimated.  An  incident  repeated  in  every 
home  must  have  some  common  elements  wherever  it  occurs. 
It  is  the  uncommon  elements  that  excite  attention  — the 
mother  clasping  a tree901  — the  painless  birth  — the  purity 


89  Beal,  Romantic  History  of  the  Buddha,  p.  44. 

90  Similarly  in  Jain  legends,  at  the  birth  of  Mahavlra ; cf.  Sacred  Books,  12. 
191,  251.  At  the  birth  of  Christ  “the  heavenly  throne  laughed,  and  the  world  re- 
joiced,” Oracula  Sibyilina,  viii.  476,  cf.  vi.  20. 

91a  This  turns  up  again  in  the  account  of  the  birth  of  Jesus  in  the  Koran,  Sur. 
xix.  23  ff ; in  31  the  babe  speaks  and  declares  himself  the  servant  of  God.  Sale 
(1734)  already  noticed  the  parallel  with  the  Apollo  story.  — The  action  of  the 
goddess  mother  in  supporting  herself  by  a tree  does  not  seem  to  have  any  paral- 
lel in  Greek  mythology.  But  it  is  widespread  in  the  lower  culture.  Mr.  R.R. 
Marett  kindly  refers  me  to  Roth’s  Ethnological  Studies  among  the  North-West- 
Centra!  Queensland  aborigines  (Brisbane,  1897),  where  fig.  434  shows  a small 
illustration  of  a w oman  in  act  of  grasping  some  overhanging  branch.  The  prac- 
tice also  occurs,  I believe,  in  Africa,  and  the  Rev.  L.  P.  Jacks  tells  me  that  he 
was  informed  of  it  during  a recent  journey  in  W'estern  Canada  as  a habit  among 
the  Indians.  In  the  Apollo  story  it  is  possible  that  it  may  be  introduced  to 
explain  the  sanctity  of  the  tree  preserved  in  the  sacred  precincts  at  Delos.  If 
Apollo  was  a northern  god  (Farnel!)  as  against  an  Asiatic  origin  (von  W'ilamowitz- 
Mollendorff ),  it  would  certainly  not  be  original  in  any  pre-Delian  story  of  his 
birth.  According  to  Euripides  there  w7ere  two  other  sacred  trees  in  the  enclosure, 
an  olive  and  a bay ; but  while  there  is  some  evidence  that  both  these  kinds  of 


90 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


of  the  new  born  child  — the  divine  ministrations  — the 
babe’s  ability  to  speak  and  walk  — the  sympathy  of  earth 
and  sky  expressive  of  the  whole  world’s  joy.  But  these  do 
not  exhaust  the  points  of  contact  between  the  Indian  story 
and  the  West.  Thirty-two  Good  Omens  marked  the  future 
Buddha’s  birth.91  These  are  of  various  kinds,  and  may  be 
considered  in  two  groups,  one  full  of  beneficence  to  humanity, 
the  other  typical  of  nature’s  awe. 

When  the  Hebrew  prophet  depicts  the  inauguration  of  a 
new  age,  he  tells  of  the  opening  of  blind  eyes,  the  unstopping 
of  deaf  ears ; he  promises  that  the  lame  shall  leap  and  the 
dumb  sing;  there  shall  be  waters  in  the  wilderness ; and  the 
prisoners  shall  come  forth  to  liberty.92  Such  were  the 
wonders  of  redeeming  love.  And  similarly  Indian  hope, 
looking  to  the  Buddha  as  the  deliverer  from  ignorance  and 
sin,  conceived  that  at  his  birth  the  blind  saw,  the  deaf  heard, 
and  the  dumb  spake ; the  crooked  became  straight,  and  the 
lame  walked ; the  sick  were  healed ; the  captive  was  freed 
from  his  bonds ; the  fires  in  each  hell  were  put  out.  Foun- 
tains of  water  welled  up  from  the  earth ; showers  of  heav- 
enly blossoms  descended  ; the  air  was  full  of  music ; and  celes- 
tial perfumes  were  wafted  from  the  sky.  These  wonders 
express  the  fundamental  harmony  of  the  universe  with  the 
Buddha’s  purpose  of  self-devotion  to  the  welfare  of  gods  and 
men.  They  are  not,  it  is  true,  related  in  the  Pali  Pitakas ; 
nor  can  we  expect  to  find  them  represented  in  sculpture. 
But  they  occur  in  Sanskrit  books  which  can  be  traced  back 


trees  had  a special  value  in  warding  off  evil  influences  and  rendering  parturition 
easier  (Mr.  Sidney  Hartland),  there  is  no  indication  that  they  were  ever  clasped. 
The  kneeling  attitude  of  the  goddess  is  illustrated  in  various  figures  of  Greek 
art.  Cf.  the  image  of  Eileithyia  mentioned  by  Pausanias,  viii.  48,  7,  with 
Frazer’s  note,  vol.  4.  p.  436:  Samter,  Geburt,  Hochzeit  and  Tod  (1911), 
pp.  7ff.  (unfortunately  he  ignores  the  tree).  Mr.  Hartland  kindly  forwards  a 
story  (from  the  papers  of  Dr.  A.  C.  Burnell)  current  among  the  Tuluvas  of 
southern  India,  in  which  a woman,  beginning  to  feel  the  pangs  of  child-birth, 
clasps  a cocoanut  tree  beside  the  road : the  birth  afterwards  takes  place  in  a 
house,  where  a rope  is  hung  up  to  facilitate  the  delivery.  The  attitude  of  hold- 
ing a rope  is  usual  in  the  East  Indian  Archipelago  and  the  Malay  Peninsula 
(Hartland). 

91  It  is  worth  noting  that  the  number  corresponds  to  the  thirty-two  marks  upon 
his  person  as  the  incarnation  of  Maha  Purisa.  See  the  Mahapadana  Suttanta, 
Dlgha  Nikaya,  2.  17  ff.,  and  the  Lakkhana  Suttanta,  ibid.,  3.  142  ff. 

92  Isaiah  xxxv.  5-6,  Ixi.  1.  Cf.  Matthew  xi.  5. 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


91 


to  the  first  century,  and  they  are  no  doubt  wholly  indepen- 
dent of  Christian  imagination.  Both  Hebrew  and  Buddhist 
symbolism,  however,  have  their  antecedents.  Max  Muller 
pointed  out  long  ago  that  the  healing  of  physical  defect  was 
part  of  ancient  Vedic  language.93  “ The  lame  stood,  the  blind 
saw,  Indra  did  this  in  the  joy  of  Soma”  : “ Soma  covers  what 
is  naked  ; he  heals  all  that  is  weak ; the  blind  saw,  the  lame 
came  forth.”  The  commentators  may  differ  as  to  the  sub- 
ject of  the  miracle,  — the  decrepit  sun  or  a famous  blind 
sage,  — but  there  is  at  least  a trace  of  mythologic  applica- 
tion of  healing  activity.  In  Mesopotamia,  as  we  have  seen, 
social  disorganization  was  the  precursor  of  the  end  of  a world- 
age  ; it  was  natural  that  hope  should  be  raised  to  the  highest 
at  the  beginning  of  a new  one.  Out  of  such  expectations 
came  the  court  language  with  which  the  accession  of  a sov- 
ereign was  greeted,  depicting  the  blessings  which  would 
flow  from  his  reign.94  When  Assurbanipal  came  to  the 
throne,  the  pious  scribe  looked  forward  to  “ days  of  justice, 
years  of  righteousness : abundant  rainfall,  mighty  waters  : 
the  gods  are  well  disposed : . . . the  old  men  hop,  the  chil- 
dren sing : women  and  maidens  marry,  and  bring  boys  and 
girls  into  the  world  : him  whom  his  sins  had  given  over  to 
death,  my  lord  the  king  has  left  in  life  : those  who  sat  bound 
many  years  hast  thou  set  free ; them  who  were  sick  many 
days  hast  thou  healed : the  hungry  are  satisfied : the  lean 
have  grown  fat : the  naked  are  covered  with  clothes.”  95 
So  do  the  needs  of  men  receive  common  expression  in  far- 
sundered  lands.  Or  may  we  conjecture  that  in  such  paral- 
lels we  touch  the  widespread  diffusion  of  cognate  ideas  ? 

Of  this  possibility  a final  illustration  must  suffice.  Among 
the  Thirty-two  Good  Omens  the  N idan a-Kath a reckons 
two  of  curious  significance.  The  birds  paused  in  their  flight, 
and  the  rivers  stayed  their  flow.  In  the  highly  embroidered 
style  of  the  Lalita  Vistara  96  “ the  moon,  the  sun,  the  heav- 
enly cars,  the  planets,  the  crowd  of  stars,  remained  motion- 
less; the  brooks  and  rivers  ceased  to  run;  all  the  labors 

93  Physical  Religion,  p.  393. 

94  Cf.  Gressmann,  Ursprung  der  Israelitisch-Jiidischen  Eschatologie,  pp.  260  ff. 

95  Schrader-Zimmern,  Keilinschriften,  p.  380  (3d  ed.). 

96  Annales  du  Musee  Guimet,  6.  94. 


92 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


of  men  were  interrupted.”  The  great  event  held  nature 
“breathless  with  adoration”:  her  course  was  unexpectedly 
arrested  : into  the  incessant  activity  and  change  of  the  world 
without  there  entered  a sudden  calm.  A similar  pause  in 
the  outward  scene  accompanied  (so  ran  the  later  story)  the 
birth  of  Christ.  Every  one  knows  that  an  early  church 
tradition  located  the  event  in  a cave.97  While  it  was  occu- 
pied by  the  blessed  Mary  it  was  full  of  light,98  more  splendid 
than  the  light  of  the  sun.99  The  child  was  born  without 
pain  to  the  mother ; angels  surrounded  him ; and,  as  soon 
as  he  came  forth,  he  stood  upon  his  feet,  like  Apollo  and  the 
future  Buddha,  and  received  the  homage  of  the  heavenly 
visitants.100  These  are  contributions  from  the  common 
store.  So  probably  is  the  remarkable  description  of  what 
Joseph  saw  when  he  went  out  to  seek  for  help  near  Bethle- 
hem : “I  looked  up  into  the  sky  and  saw  the  sky  astonished  ; 
and  I looked  up  to  the  pole  of  the  heavens  and  saw  it  stand- 
ing, and  the  birds  of  the  air  keeping  still.”  On  the  earth 
also  everything  became  stationary.  The  sheep  suddenly 
stood  still,  and  the  hand  of  the  shepherd  raised  to  strike 
them,  remained  up  in  the  air.  The  water  of  the  stream 
ceased  to  flow,  and  the  mouths  of  the  kids  rested  on  it  with- 
out drinking  : “everything  which  was  being  impelled  forward 
was  intercepted  in  its  course.”  101  Van  Eysinga  finds  here  the 
influence  of  the  Indian  tale.102  This  is  of  course  possible, 
but  it  is  not  necessary.  The  idea  is  as  old  as  the  Homeric 
story  of  Athena’s  birth.  When  the  goddess  sprang  in  full 
panoply  from  the  holy  head  of  Zeus,  the  world  below  showed 
every  sign  of  agitation  and  sympathy : “the  earth  rang 

97  So  Justin,  Dialogue  with  Trypko,  78,  and  the  Protevangelium  of  James, 
chapter  18.  Mithras,  too,  was  born  out  of  the  rock,  and  Hermes  in  a cave  on 
Mount  Cyllene ; Justin,  op.  cit.,  70 ; Meyer  in  Hennecke’s  Handbuch  zu  den  neu- 
testamentlichen  Apokryphen,  p.  126  (1904).  Bauer,  Das  Leben  Jesu  im  Zeitalter  der 
neutestamentlichen  Apokryphen,  p.  66  (1909),  supposes  that  Mary’s  retirement  was 
for  purposes  of  secrecy,  and  had  no  special  mythological  implication.  Very  curi- 
ous is  the  late  Chinese  legend  of  the  birth  of  Confucius,  which  seems  to  be  touched 
with  Buddhist  influence.  His  mother  goes  to  a cave  to  be  confined.  Two  drag- 
ons come  and  keep  watch  outside  on  the  hill,  and  two  spirit  ladies  pour  out  fra- 
grant odors  within  ; a spring  of  clear  warm  water  bubbles  up  from  the  floor,  which 
dries  up  when  the  babe  has  been  washed.  Legge,  Chinese  Classics,  1.  59  (2d  ed., 
1893).  98  Pseudo-Matthew,  xiii.  99  Arabic  Gospel  of  the  Infancy,  iii. 

100  Pseudo-Matthew,  xiii.  101  Protevangelium  of  James,  xviii. 

102  Indische  EinflUsse  auf  Evangelische  Erzahlungen,  p.  78  (2d  ed.,  1909). 


J.  ESTLIN  CARPENTER 


93 


terribly  around,  and  the  sea  boiled  with  dark  waves  and  broke 
forth  suddenly  with  foam.”  But  the  majestic  wonder  of 
heaven  expressed  itself  differently.  “The  glorious  son  of 
Hyperion  checked  for  long  his  swift  steeds.”  103  In  other 
words,  the  sun  stood  still  in  the  sky. 

One  final  witness  may  be  heard.  Ishodad  of  Merv,  about 
850  a.d.,  commenting  on  the  story  of  the  Baptism  in  Matthew 
iii.  observes : 

Straightway,  as  the  Diatessaron  testifies,  light  shone  forth,  and  over 
the  Jordan  was  spread  a veil  of  white  clouds,  and  there  appeared  many 
hosts  of  spiritual  beings  who  were  praising  God  in  the  air.  And  quietly 
Jordan  stood  still  from  its  flowing,  its  waters  being  at  rest,  and  a sweet 
odor  was  wafted  from  thence.104 

Five  separate  items  meet  us  here:  (1)  a great  light; 
(2)  white  clouds  over  the  river ; (3)  a multitude  of  spirits ; 
(4)  the  arrest  of  the  stream ; (5)  the  heavenly  odors.  The 
burst  of  light  belonged  to  early  tradition,  as  it  appears  in 
the  fragments  of  the  Gospel  of  the  Ebionites.105  Scent, 
according  to  Dr.  Harris,  is  elsewhere  connected  with  the 
manifestation  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  It  is  not  necessary  to 
argue  on  the  line  of  the  well-known  reading  of  D in  Luke  iii. 
22,  that  we  have  here  to  do  with  the  real  birthday  of  the 
Messiah  as  Son  of  God,  so  that  we  have  phenomena  analo- 
gous to  those  of  the  Buddha’s  nativity.  The  parallel  to 
the  Baptism  when  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  supposed  to  have 
become  “God’s  Anointed”  through  the  unction  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  is  found  in  that  hour  of  Enlightenment  when  Gotama 
attained  the  knowledge  which  would  make  him  the  teacher 
of  gods  and  men.  It  was  fitting  that  the  Thirty-two  Good 
Omens  should  be  then  repeated.  The  shining  light,  the 
heavenly  choir,  the  stationary  waters,  the  celestial  scents, 
correspond  in  both  stories.  One  item  remains  unexplained, 
— the  white  clouds.  It  is  noticeable  that  they  are  men- 
tioned just  before  the  singers  from  the  sky : may  it  not  be 
conjectured  that  it  was  in  this  form  that  the  holy  companies 

103  Horn.  Hymn,  xxvii. 

104  Dr.  Rendell  Harris,  Fragments  of  the  Commentary  of  Eplirem  Syrus  upon 
the  Diatessaron,  p.  43  (1895). 

105  Preuschen,  Antilegomena,  p.  11, 1. 13  (2d  ed.,  1905).  In  Justin,  Dialogue  with 
Trypho,  18,  fire  breaks  out  upon  the  water. 


94 


BUDDHIST  AND  CHRISTIAN  PARALLELS 


became  visible  ? In  a Chinese  version  of  the  Buddha-carita 
of  Agvaghosha  we  read,  “Countless  devas  delighting  in 
religion  like  clouds  assembled.” 106 

It  is  quite  possible  that  there  is  some  direct  contact  here. 
But  was  Ishodad  right  in  attributing  all  these  details  to  the 
Diatessaron ; and,  if  so,  where  and  how  were  they  inserted  ? 
Such  decorations  may  easily  have  been  added  in  the  further 
East,  under  suggestion  from  a faith  containing  so  many 
similar  motives.  But  they  may  also  be  derived  from  that 
vast  fund  of  imaginative  material  which  lies  beneath  all 
historic  forms  deep  in  the  consciousness  of  whole  peoples, 
ready  to  be  called  into  light  by  the  stimulus  of  great  ideas. 
In  ages  when  the  different  national  cultures  were  much  more 
nearly  on  the  same  intellectual  levels  than  they  are  now, 
it  would  seem  more  possible  for  such  a picture-language 
to  be  widely  diffused  from  land  to  land.  The  means  of  its 
transmission  it  is  no  longer  in  our  power  to  trace.  Conquest 
and  deportation  on  the  one  hand  and  commerce  on  the  other 
were  no  doubt  among  the  chief  agencies.  It  must  be  enough 
for  the  student,  seeking  to  make  his  way  among  the  specu- 
lations of  the  past,  if  he  can  discover  such  occasional  parallels 
as  may  imply  a common  outlook  upon  life,  a common  hope 
for  human  welfare,  a common  reverence  for  the  ‘fair  and 
good.’ 

106  Sacred  Books,  19.  6. 

Oxford, 

July,  1910. 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS  IN  EARLY 
IRISH  LITERATURE 


Fred  Norris  Robinson 
Harvard  University 

It  would  appear  from  various  references  in  Elizabethan 
writers  that  the  feature  of  Irish  literature  which  most  im- 
pressed Englishmen  of  the  time  was  the  supposed  power  of 
Irish  poets  to  work  destruction  with  their  verse.  Sidney, 
at  the  end  of  his  Defense  of  Poesy,  in  his  parting  curse  upon 
the  disdainer  of  the  art,  will  not  wish  him  “the  ass’s  ears 
of  Midas,  nor  to  be  driven  by  a Poet’s  verses,  as  Bubonax 
was,  to  hang  himself,  nor  to  be  rhymed  to  death,  as  is  said 
to  be  done  in  Ireland.  ” 1 Again,  in  Reginald  Scot’s  Dis- 
covery of  Witchcraft,  it  is  said  that  Irishmen,  speaking  of 
their  witches,  “will  not  stick  to  affirm  that  they  can  rhyme 
either  man  or  beast  to  death.”2  And  a number  of  writers 
refer  to  the  destruction  of  rats  by  means  of  such  potent 
verses.  In  the  Epilogue  to  Ben  Jonson’s  Poetaster,3  the 
author  declares  that  he  will 

Rhyme  them  to  death,  as  they  do  Irish  rats. 

In  drumming  tunes ; 

and  Rosalind,  in  As  You  Like  It,  humorously  compares  Or- 
lando’s rhymes  to  those  which  had  released  her  soul  from  a 
lower  existence  and  helped  it  to  achieve  its  transmigration. 
“I  was  never  so  berhymed,”  she  declares,  “since  Pythago- 
ras’ time,  that  I was  an  Irish  rat,  which  I can  hardly 
remember.  ” 4 

1 Sidney’s  Works,  ed.  1724,  3.  52.  2 Ed.  1665,  p.  35. 

3 Jonson’s  Works,  ed.  Gifford  (1875),  6.  518. 

4 As  You  Like  It,  act  iii.  Scene  2.  Other  references  to  the  subject,  some  of  them 
of  considerably  later  date,  will  be  found  in  Ben  Jonson’s  Staple  of  News,  act  iv, 

95 


96 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


The  story  of  the  destruction  or  expulsion  of  rats  or  mice 
is  told  of  a number  of  Irishmen  in  different  periods. 
In  fact  Eugene  O’Curry,  who  made  a report  on  the  subject 
in  1855,  for  the  Royal  Irish  Academy,5  remarks  that  he 
once  tried  to  perform  the  feat  himself,  but  failed,  perhaps 
because  his  words  were  too  hard  for  the  vermin  to  under- 
stand ! The  most  famous  early  instance,  probably,  is  that 
of  the  poet  Senchan,  who  lived  in  the  seventh  century.  Ac- 
cording to  the  Proceedings  of  the  Great  Bardic  Institution 
(Imtheacht  na  Tromdhaimhe),6  a tale  of  the  Middle  Irish 
period,  an  egg  which  had  been  saved  for  Senchan ’s 
meal  was  eaten  up  by  the  “nimble  race,”  namely,  the  mice. 
“That  was  not  proper  for  them,”  said  Senchan;  “never- 
theless there  is  not  a king  or  chief,  be  he  ever  so  great,  but 
these  mice  would  wish  to  leave  the  traces  of  their  own  teeth 
in  his  food ; and  in  that  they  err,  for  food  should  not  be  used 
by  any  person  after  (the  print  of)  their  teeth ; and  I will 
satirize  them.”  Then  follow  stanzas  in  which  Senchan 
threatens  the  mice  with  death,  and  they  beg  him  to  accept 
compensation  instead.  As  a result  of  his  verses,  ten  mice 


Scene  1 (Gifford’s  ed.,  5.  271);  Randolph’s  Jealous  Lovers,  act  v.  Scene  1; 
Rhymes  against  Martin  Marprelate,  cited  by  Nares  from  Herbert’s  Typographical 
Antiquities,  p.  1689  (the  whole  poem  printed  in  D 'Israeli’s  Quarrels  of  Authors,  2. 
255-263) ; Sir  William  Temple’s  Essay  on  Poetry,  in  his  works  (ed.  1757),  3.  418; 
Swift’s  Advice  to  a Young  Poet  (ed.  Scott,  9.  407);  and  Pope’s  version  of 
Donne’s  Second  Satire,  line  23.  Most  of  these  passages  were  cited  in  Nares’ 
Glossary,  under  Rats  Rimed  to  Death;  for  further  discussion  see  an  article  by 
Todd,  Proceedings  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy,  1S55,  pp.  355  ff. 

6 O 'Curry ’s  materials  were  presented  in  Dr.  Todd ’s  paper  in  the  Proceedings  for 
1855.  He  mentions  one  instance  of  rat-rhyming  in  1776,  and  another  about  1820. 
Cases  of  the  same  sort  among  the  Highland  Gaels  are  cited  by  the  Rev.  Alexander 
Stewart  in  Twist  Ben  Nevis  and  Glencoe  (Edinburgh,  1885).  A long  spell  said  to 
have  been  composed  and  successfully  used  by  a farmer  on  the  Island  of  Lismore  is 
given  by  Stewart  on  pp.  4 ff.  Somewhat  different  from  these  stories  of  rat-rhymers 
is  the  case  related  by  Giraldus  Cambrensis  (Gemma  Ecclesiastica,  Rolls  Series, 
161)  of  St.  Yvor  the  bishop,  who  by  his  curse  expelled  the  rats  (majores  mures, 
qui  vulgariter  rati  vocantur)  from  an  Irish  province  because  they  had  gnawed 
his  books.  This  was  conceived  by  Giraldus  as  a Christian  miracle,  and  is 
cited,  along  with  the  story  of  St.  Patrick  and  the  snakes,  to  illustrate  the  fearful 
effects  of  excommunication.  Still  another  method  of  disposing  of  rats  is  familiar 
to  everybody  in  the  legend  of  the  Piper  of  Hamelin. 

6 Edited  and  translated  by  O.  Connellan  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Ossianic 
Society,  vol.  6,  Dublin,  1860.  The  Irish  title  means  simply  the  Circuit  of  the  Bur- 
densome Company,  but  the  tale  is  usually  referred  to  in  English  by  Connellan ’s 
rendering,  as  given  above. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


97 


fell  dead  in  his  presence ; whereupon  he  said  to  them  : “It  is 
not  you  that  I ought  to  have  satirized,  but  the  party  whose 
duty  it  is  to  suppress  you,  namely,  the  tribe  of  cats.”  And 
then  he  pronounced  a satire  on  Irusan,  the  chief,  lord,  and 
Brehon  of  all  the  cats.  But  the  victim  this  time  took  the  at- 
tack less  meekly.  Irusan  came — “blunt-mouthed,  rapa- 
cious, panting,  determined,  jagged-eared,  broad-breasted 
prominent-jointed,  sharp  and  smooth-clawed,  split-nosed, 
sharp  and  rough-toothed,  thick-mouthed,  nimble,  powerful, 
deep-flanked,  terror-striking,  angry,  extremely  vindictive, 
quick,  purring,  glare-eyed,”  — in  this  guise  he  came  and 
carried  off  Senchan  on  his  back ; and  the  poet,  after  trying 
flattery  without  avail,  was  barely  saved  by  St.  Kieran,  who 
killed  Irusan  as  he  passed  his  cell. 

Exploits  like  these  doubtless  appealed  to  the  English 
as  being  particularly  appropriate  to  poets  of  the  ‘wild  Irish,’ 
whose  extraordinary  character  and  customs  were  a favorite 
topic  with  British  writers  from  Giraldus  Cambrensis  down 
to  Edmund  Spenser.7  And  the  story  of  Senchan  itself  is 
old  enough  to  have  been  known  in  England  before  the  days 
of  Elizabeth. 

The  Middle  Irish  account  of  the  “Great  Bardic  Company” 
will  be  discussed  again  later.  But  it  is  already  clear  from 
the  passages  quoted  that  ‘satire,’  or  the  Irish  term  which 
is  so  translated,  is  not  employed  in  the  ordinary  English 
sense  of  the  word.  The  poet’s  victims,  whether  rats  and 
cats,  as  in  the  tale  of  Senchan,  or  men,  as  in  many  stories  to 
be  mentioned  later,  are  not  destroyed  by  the  natural  opera- 
tion of  literary  art.  The  verses  used  are  magic  spells,  and 
the  whole  procedure  belongs  in  the  realm  of  sorcery.  This 
was  recognized  by  Reginald  Scot,  who  classed  the  Irish 
rat-spells  with  other  performances  of  witches  or  ‘ eye-biters’ ; 
and  by  Sir  William  Temple,  who  associated  the  Irish  prac- 
tice in  question  with  the  magic  runes  of  the  ancient  Teu- 
tons.8 The  use  of  incantations  to  accomplish  supernatural 

7 British  treatment  of  Irish  history  has  long  been  a grievance  to  Irish  writers. 
Perhaps  the  best  way  of  getting  at  the  traditional  accounts  of  the  ‘ wild  Irish  ’ is 
by  consulting  the  rejoinders  of  such  native  writers  as  Keating  in  his  Forus  Feasa 
air  Eirinn,  or  Lynch  in  his  Cambrensis  Eversus.  See  also  the  Rev.  Dr.  T.  J.  Shahan ’s 
survey  of  the  subject  in  the  Am.  Cath.  Quarterly  Review,  28.  310  ff. 

8 For  references  to  Scot  and  Temple,  see  pp.  95,  96,  above. 


98 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


ends,  whether  of  good  or  evil,  is  so  familiar  the  world  over 
that  this  obvious  interpretation  of  the  Irish  story  needs  no 
defence  or  illustration ; and  one  might  at  first  be  disposed  to 
dismiss  the  whole  matter  with  the  suggestion  that  ‘satire’ 
is  not  a suitable  translation  of  the  Irish  term  for  such  verses 
as  those  of  Senchan.  There  is  manifestly  a “long  and  large 
difference”  between  these  talismanic  spells,  often  half- 
meaningless  in  content,  and  the  highly  acute  and  intellec- 
tual form  of  poetry  which  has  been  chiefly  known  in  Europe 
by  the  name  of  satire.  It  seems  like  an  unjustifiable  loose- 
ness in  language  to  use  the  same  word  for  such  dissimilar 
things.  But  as  soon  as  one  begins  to  examine  the  so-called 
satirical  material  in  Irish  literature,  one  finds  difficulties 
in  dispensing  with  the  name.  In  the  first  place,  the  Irish 
language  itself  employs  the  same  words  (most  commonly 
aer  and  its  derivatives) 9 for  the  rat-spells  of  Senchan  and 
for  the  stricter  satire  of  a later  age.  Furthermore,  the  per- 
sons described  as  pronouncing  satires,  even  of  the  old  de- 
structive sort,  were  by  no  means  always  mere  enchanters, 
but  in  many  cases  poets  of  high  station,  either  in  history 
or  in  saga.  And  finally,  the  subjects  of  their  maleficent 
verse — often,  for  example,  the  inhospitality  or  other  vices 
of  chieftains — are  such  as  might  form  suitable  themes  of 
genuine  satire;  and  the  purpose  of  the  poets  is  frequently 
described  as  being  to  produce  ridicule  and  shame.  In 
short,  it  seems  impossible  in  old  Celtic  literature  to  draw 
a line  between  what  is  strictly  satire  and  what  is  not;  and 
one  ends  by  realizing  that,  for  the  ancient  Celts  themselves, 
the  distinction  did  not  exist.  Just  as  their  poets  were  not 
clearly  separable  from  druids  and  medicine-men,  but  often 
combined  in  one  person  the  functions  of  all  three,10  so  they 
freely  mingled  natural  and  supernatural  processes  in  the 
practice  of  their  arts.  Destructive  spells  and  poems  of 
slander  or  abuse  were  all  thought  of  together  as  the  work, 
and  it  sometimes  seems  almost  the  chief  work,  of  the  tribal 


9 For  a further  account  of  the  Irish  terms,  see  pp.  103  ff.,  below. 

10  The  confusion  among  these  different  classes  is  well  set  forth,  with  illustra- 
tive passages,  by  C.  Plummer,  Vita  Sanctorum  Hiberniae,  1.  pp.  clx.-clxii.  Compare 
also  pp.  121,  123,  below,  for  examples  of  the  combination  of  different  magic  arts  by 
poets  and  poetesses. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


99 


man  of  letters.  And  the  retention  of  one  term  for  all  these 
products,  at  least  while  speaking  of  a literature  where  such 
conditions  prevailed,  is  certainly  defensible,  and  may  be  posi- 
tively instructive  in  emphasizing  the  continuity  of  literary 
development. 

Of  course  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Irish  literature  is 
peculiar  in  the  respects  that  have  been  described.  The 
combination  of  the  functions  of  poet  and  magician  is  char- 
acteristic of  early  stages  of  civilization  and  appears  in  many 
parts  of  the  world.  Among  various  peoples,  too,  the  sa- 
tirical office  of  the  poet  has  been  given  special  prominence ; 
and  where  this  is  the  case,  in  simple  states  of  society,  a cer- 
tain amount  of  sorcery  may  always  be  suspected  in  the 
poet’s  work.  But  in  the  literature  of  the  Kulturvolker  evi- 
dence is  not  always  preserved  of  the  lower  civilization  that 
went  before,  and  the  relation  between  sorcery  and  satire  is 
by  no  means  everywhere  apparent.  In  Greek  and  Latin,  for 
example,  there  are  comparatively  few  traces  of  the  magician- 
poet,  though  the  use  of  incantations  was  common  enough  in 
ancient  classical  civilization  and  the  terms  eVaotSr / and  car- 
men have  a well-recognized  magic  association.11  The  famil- 
iar story  of  Archilochus,  whose  iambics  led  to  the  death  of 
Lycambes  and  his  daughters,  shows,  to  be  sure,  the  destruc- 
tive power  of  satire.  But  it  is  hardly  a case  in  point,  unless 
it  be  assumed  that  an  original  story  of  magical  destruction 
has  been  rationalized  into  an  account  of  death  from  shame ; 
and  there  is  no  necessity  for  such  an  assumption.12  In 
general,  the  satire  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans  cannot  be 
easily  traced  back  beyond  a fairly  sophisticated  age ; 13  and 

11  For  a convenient  survey  of  the  evidence  concerning  the  use  of  incantations 
in  Greek  and  Roman  civilization,  see  an  article  on  Graeco-Italian  Magic,  by  F.  B. 
Jevons,  in  Anthropology  and  the  Classics  (Oxford,  1908),  pp.  93  ff. 

12  The  story  seems  more  likely  to  have  been  a late  invention.  For  the  authori- 
ties, and  a possible  explanation  of  its  origin,  see  Croiset,  Histoire  de  la  Litterature 
Grecque  (1890),  2.  180.  And  the  death  of  Bupalus,  the  victim  of  Hipponax, 
of  which  Sidney’s  Bubonax  (p.  95,  above)  seems  to  show  a confused  memory, 
is  of  similarly  doubtful  authority. 

13  For  certain  evidences  of  ancient  popular  Spoltlieder  in  Greece  and  Italy, 
which  suggest  conditions  similar  to  those  among  Germans  and  Celts,  see  Usener, 
Rheinisches  Museum,  53.  1 ff. ; Hirt,  Die  Indogermanen  (1905),  2.  478-479,  728. 
One  cannot  help  suspecting  in  the  light  of  the  Irish  material  to  be  here  discussed, 
that  there  was  more  of  a magic  element  than  Usener  recognized  in  the  old  Italic 
poems  of  abuse. 


100 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


the  satire  of  modern  Europe,  it  may  be  added,  is  in  large 
measure  classical  and  literary  in  origin. 

Better  parallels  to  the  Irish  situation  are  furnished  by  the 
popular  poetry  of  ancient  Arabia.  There,  according  to  an 
opinion  which  has  found  favour  with  Arabic  scholars,  the  com- 
mon name  of  the  poet,  Skair,  meant  originally  ‘ the  knowing 
one,  the  one  possessed  of  supernatural  knowledge.  ’ 14  There, 
as  in  Ireland,  the  satirical  function  of  the  order  is  very  con- 
spicuous. Men  give  the  poets  rich  gifts  to  escape  disfavor, 
or  place  them  under  restraint  and  punishment  as  dangerous 
persons.  In  one  instance,  it  is  said,  the  Calif  Al-Mansur 
abandoned  marriage  with  a noble  woman  of  the  Taghlib  for 
fear  of  the  effects  of  a satire  which  Djarir  had  pronounced 
against  her.  A large  number  of  the  old  Arabic  satires  have 
been  preserved,  and  with  regard  to  them,  as  with  regard  to 
the  Irish  poems,  it  is  hard  to  say  how  far  they  are  real  lam- 
poons and  how  far  incantations.15  The  supernatural  ele- 
ment, so  far  as  the  present  writer  has  observed,  is  less 
emphasized  in  the  Arabic  than  in  the  Irish,  and  there  is  more 
real  satire,  more  genuine  mockery  or  criticism,  in  the  Arabic 
verses.  The  Arabs  had  perhaps  advanced  a step  farther 
than  the  Irish  from  the  stage  of  the  magician-poet.16  But, 
on  the  whole,  the  similarity  between  the  two  literatures  in 
the  matters  under  discussion  is  most  striking  and  instructive. 

Among  the  peoples  of  central  and  northern  Europe  it 
can  hardly  be  doubted  that  conditions  like  those  of  the 
Irish  once  prevailed,  though  evidence  on  the  subject  is 
comparatively  scanty.  Incantations  make  up  an  important 
element  in  the  popular  poetry  of  the  Finns,  and  Comparetti 

14  For  a full  statement  of  the  theory  see  Goldziher,  Abhandlungen  zur  Arabi- 
sehen  Philologie  (Leiden,  1896),  pp.  1-105.  Goldziher’s  article  contains  much 
material  of  interest  to  students  of  European  popular  poetry.  His  main  conclusion 
is  briefly  restated  and  indorsed  by  M.  J.  de  Goeje,  Die  Arabische  Literatur,  in 
Kultur  der  Gegenwart,  Orientalische  Literaturen,  pp.  134  ff.  Compare  also  Broc- 
kelmann,  Geschichte  der  Arabischen  Litteratur  (1901),  pp.  7 ff. 

15  Professor  G.  F.  Moore  called  the  writer’s  attention  to  the  fact  that  Riickert, 
in  his  translation  of  the  Hamasa,  employed  the  term  Schmahlieder  for  all  such  poems, 
just  as  writers  on  Irish  have  called  them  ‘satires.’  Freytag,  similarly,  in  his  edition 
of  the  Hamasa,  translated  the  Arabic  subtitle  (Bab  el-Hija’)  as  Caput  Satyrarum, 
and  the  Arabic  Hija  has  acquired  this  general  sense.  But  Goldziher  (see  partic- 
ularly pp.  26  ff . of  his  article)  argues  that  it  meant  originally  a curse  or  spell ; thus 
it  constitutes  an  interesting  parallel  to  the  development  of  the  Irish  aer. 

16  This  is  consistent  with  the  view  expressed  by  De  Goeje,  op.  cit.,  p.  134. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


101 


has  argued  effectively  to  show  that  the  primary  sense  of  the 
Finnish  runo  was  a magic  spell.17  But  it  is  not  clear  that 
there  was  much  development  in  the  direction  of  personal 
satire.  In  old  Germanic  poetry  there  can  be  no  question  as 
to  the  prevalence  of  the  Zauberlied,18  and  there  is  also  testi- 
mony, though  not  so  abundant  as  one  could  wish,  to  the  ex- 
istence of  the  Spottlied  from  a very  early  time.19  That  the 
two  types  probably  stood  in  close  relation,  it  is  one  of  the 
purposes  of  the  present  discussion  to  show.  But  the  exist- 
ence of  the  destructive  satirists  on  Germanic  territory  is 
not  altogether  a matter  of  inference.  Their  practices  seem  to 
be  contemplated  in  an  ecclesiastical  canon  of  the  year  744. 20 
A definite  case  also  seems  to  be  furnished  by  the  story 
of  Hug  timidus,  in  the  ninth  century,  whose  servants  sang 
against  him  and  inspired  such  terror  that  the  victim  did 
not  dare  step  out  of  doors.21  Coming  down  to  later  ages, 
it  is  well  known  that  in  Iceland  of  the  saga  period,  satirical 
poems  were  greatly  feared  and  the  poets  were  strictly  dealt 
with  in  the  laws ; 22  and  even  in  the  seventeenth  century 

17  See  Comparetti,  II  Kalevala,  o la  Poesia  Tradizionale  dei  Finni  (Reale 
Accademia  dei  Lincei,  Roma,  1891),  pp.  23  ff. 

18  See  E.  Mogk,  Kelten  und  Nordgermanen,  p.  12;  also  his  article  in  the  Arkiv 
for  Nordisk  Filologi,  17.  277  ff.  In  the  latter  place  he  even  argues  that  the 
Zauberlied  was  the  chief  form  of  early  Germanic  poetry,  and  that  the  oldest  Ger- 
manic names  for  poems  ( IjoS , galdr,  and  the  Finnish  runo,  borrowed  from  Ger- 
manic) had  reference  primarily  to  spells. 

19  For  evidence  concerning  early  Spottlieder  see  Kogel’s  Literaturgeschiehte,  vol. 
1,  part  i,  pp.  55  ff.,  208;  vol.  1,  part  ii,  pp.  164-165;  also  Engel's  article  in  Paul’s 
Grundriss  (2d  ed.),  2.  48  ff.,  68  ff.  The  very  early  instance  mentioned  in  Au- 
sonius  ( Moselle , 167),  of  the  probra  sung  against  seris  cultoribus  among  the  Treviri 
has  been  counted  by  some  scholars  as  Germanic,  and  by  others  as  Celtic,  or  even 
as  Roman.  See  Kogel,  vol.  1,  part  i,  p.  55 ; C.  Jullian,  Rev.  Arch.  40.  321 ; Martin, 
Gott.  Gel.  Anz.,  1893,  p.  128.  Brandi,  in  his  article  on  Altenglische  Literatur- 
geschichte,  in  Paul’s  Grundriss,  2d  edition,  2.  974,  mentions  the  Anglo-Saxon 
dreamas,  ‘ gesellsckaflliche  Lieder,’  and  conjectures  that  the  Spottlied  ( bismerleofi ) 
must  have  figured  prominently  among  them. 

20  On  the  canon  see  Miillenhoff  in  Haupt’s  Zeitschrift,  9.  130.  There  is  some 
doubt,  it  should  be  said,  concerning  its  application  to  Germanic  conditions ; and 
in  general,  as  Professor  Wiener  has  collected  material  to  show,  it  is  necessary  to  be 
cautious  in  deriving  from  ecclesiastical  canons,  which  were  taken  over  literally  from 
one  council  to  another,  evidences  as  to  local  beliefs  and  practices. 

21  The  story  is  told  in  Thegan’s  Life  of  Louis  the  Pious,  chapter  28,  and  is  cited 
by  Kogel,  Literaturgeschiehte,  vol.  1,  part  i,  p.  208. 

22  Cf.  Weinhold,  Altnordisches  Leben,  pp.  341  ff.,  465 ; Finnur  Jonsson,  Den 
Oldnorske  og  Oldislandske  Litteraturs  Histone,  2.  18,  133-139 ; and  for  a number  of 
references  to  sagas,  Vigfusson’s  Dictionary,  under  darvz,  Jlim,  and  niS. 


102 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


Isaac  de  la  Peyrere,  a French  traveller  in  Iceland,  testified  to 
the  belief  that  the  wound  given  by  a mad  dog  was  “ scarce 
more  dangerous  than  [the]  venomous  satyrs”  of  the 
poets.23  It  is  possible,  moreover,  that  the  common  name 
for  a poet  in  the  West  Germanic  languages  (Anglo-Saxon 
scop.  Old  High  German  scof)  contains  the  same  root  as 
the  verb  ‘to  scoff.’  The  etymology  is  not  well  enough 
established  to  be  used  as  proof  of  the  importance  of  satirical 
verse  among  the  West  Germanic  peoples ; but  on  the  other 
hand,  such  evidence  from  other  literatures  as  has  here  been 
presented  removes  any  serious  objection,  on  semasiological 
grounds,  to  the  association  of  the  two  groups  of  words.24 

The  poets  of  the  Celts  seem  to  have  been  famous,  even 
in  antiquity,  for  their  use  of  satire  and  malediction.  One 
of  the  oldest  classical  references  to  Celtic  literature,  a well- 
known  passage  in  Diodorus  Siculus,  perhaps  derived  by  him 
from  Posidonius,  says  that  the  bards,  “singing  to  instruments 
like  lyres,  praise  some  men  and  abuse  others.”  25  And  down 

23  The  quotation  is  from  the  English  version  of  the  Relation  de  l’lslande  of 
La  Peyr&re  (in  Churchill’s  Collection  of  Voyages  and  Travels)  (1704),  2.  437. 
See  Farley.  Scandinavian  Influences  in  the  English  Romantic  Movement  (Har- 
vard Studies  and  Notes,  vol.  10),  pp.  19  ff. 

24  On  the  etymology  of  scop  there  is  still  considerable  difference  of  opinion. 
The  word  was  formerly  held  to  have  a long  vowel  and  was  brought  into  con- 
nection with  scieppan  (compare  the  relation  of  -rroigrris  and  iroi(a).  When 
the  vowel  was  seen  to  be  short,  this  etymology  became  harder  to  support; 
but  Kogel  in  his  Literaturgeschichte,  vol.  1,  part  i,  pp.  140  ff.,  still  defended  it, 
assuming  a theoretic  *skupo-  with  Tiefstufe  of  the  Ablaut.  In  Paul’s  Grundriss, 
2d  ed.,  2.  34,  however,  he  changed  his  explanation  and  proposed  to  connect  the 
word  with  the  root  seq-,  sqe-,  in  ewerre,  Lat.  insece,  and  perhaps  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  specan.  In  favor  of  the  association  with  ‘scoff  ’ see  Kluge,  Engl. 
Stud.  8.  480,  quoted  with  approval  by  Gummere,  Old  English  Ballads  (1894), 
p.  xxxii.  This  explanation  is  adopted  in  the  New  English  Dictionary,  under 
scop,  and  in  Torp’s  Wortschatz  der  Germanischen  Spracheinheit  (Fick’s  Worter- 
buch),  3.  469.  The  Irish  faith,  ‘poet’  (cognate  with  Lat.  votes),  and  the  Welsh 
givawd,  ‘mockery,’  perhaps  show  a similar  relation  in  meaning.  See  Zimmer,  Die 
Keltischen  Literaturen  (in  Kultur  der  Gegenwart),  p.  77,  n.  The  old  Norse 
skald,  if  related  to  scold,  schelten,  etc.,  would  furnish  another  parallel.  This  etymol- 
ogy, defended  in  Vigfusson’s  Dictionary,  p.  541,  is  rejected  by  several  later  writers, 
though  no  other  has  been  clearly  established  in  its  place.  Compare  Liden  in 
Paul  and  Braune’s  Beitrage,  15.  507  ff.;  Mogk,  in  Paul’s  Grundriss,  2d  ed.,  2.  657; 
and  F.  Jonsson,  Litteraturs  Historie,  1.  329  ff. 

25  Diodorus,  v.  31.  2.  OSroi  Se  per  Spyavav  rats  \6pcus  opoluv  qdovres  ovs  ptv  vp~ 
vovaiv,  ous  p\a.o<ptip.o\)tri.  M.  Camille  Jullian,  in  a discussion  of  this  passage  (in 
Revue  Archeologique,  40.  321),  cites  also  classical  testimony  on  the  use  by  the 
ancient  Celts  of  invectives  in  battle.  This  custom,  which  is  frequently  referred  to 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


103 


to  modern  times,  in  both  the  main  branches  of  Celtic  lit- 
erature, the  Gaelic  and  the  Brythonic,  the  twofold  function 
of  the  bards,  to  praise  and  to  blame,  has  been  well  recognized 
and  freely  exerted.  Their  supernatural  power,  too,  has 
never  ceased  to  be  feared  ; and  it  was  related  of  no  less  a poet 
than  Dafydd  ap  Gwilym,  almost  a contemporary  of  Chaucer, 
that  he  killed  a literary  antagonist  by  the  virulence  of  his 
verse.26  On  the  whole,  as  might  be  expected,  the  magic 
aspect  of  the  satirist’s  work  was  more  emphasized  in  the 
early  ages  of  lower  civilization,  and  it  is  consequently  con- 
spicuous in  Irish  literature,  which  preserves  most  abundant 
evidence  concerning  those  periods.  Irish  also  exhibits 
very  clearly  the  close  connection  between  the  poetry  of 
magic  malediction  and  the  poetry  of  mockery  and  abuse, 
and  shows  the  importance  of  satire,  of  whatever  sort,  as 
an  element  in  the  life  of  simple  peoples.  Numerous  pro- 
visions concerning  satirists  appear  in  the  ancient  law  of  the 
land ; their  maledictions  are  even  recognized  among  the  sanc- 
tions of  treaties ; rules  for  the  making  of  satires  are  laid  down 
in  the  native  treatises  on  poetry ; and  in  the  ancient  popular 
sagas  the  part  of  satirist  is  played  again  and  again  by  im- 
portant poets,  whose  power  often  determines  the  fate  of 
great  national  heroes. 

Some  of  the  evidence  of  these  peculiar  conditions  will  be 
taken  up  in  the  pages  that  follow.  But  a brief  explanation  of 
the  Irish  terms  for  satire  ought  perhaps  to  be  given  first.  Sat- 
irists are  often  referred  to  in  Irish  texts  by  the  general  words 
for  poet  (file,  bard,  licerd,  aes  dana,  etc.),  druid  ( drui ),  or 
seer  (faith) ; and  it  has  already  been  pointed  out  that  the 
classes  named  are  freely  confused,  or  at  least  exchange 
their  functions,  in  the  older  sagas.27  With  specific  reference 
to  satire  the  terms  most  frequently  employed  are  aer  and 
cdined  and  their  derivatives.  Common  use  is  also  made  of 
ainmed,  ‘blemishing,’  imdergad,  ‘reddening,’  and  rindad, 
‘cutting’;  all  of  which  seem  to  have  reference  primarily 

in  both  Celtic  and  Germanic  sagas,  is  closely  related  to  the  other  forms  of  satire 
under  consideration.  See  Goldziher,  Abhandlungen  zur  arabischen  Philologie, 
pp.  26-27,  for  similar  observations  with  regard  to  Arabic. 

26  For  the  strife  between  Dafydd  and  Rhys  Meigen  see  Barddoniaeth  Dafydd 
ap  Gwilym  (1789),  pp.  xi.  ff.,  452  ff. ; also  L.  C.  Stern  in  the  Zeitschrift  fur  celt- 
ische  Philologie,  7.  26  ff.  27  See  p.  98,  above. 


104 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


to  the  physical  effects  of  the  satirist’s  attack.  Somewhat 
less  frequent  in  occurrence  are  ail,  ‘disgrace,’  aithgiud, 
‘sharpening’  ( ?),  aithisiugud,  ‘reviling,’  ainfhialad,  ‘dis- 
honoring,’ cuitbiud,  ‘laughter,  ridicule,’  ecnad,  ‘reviling’ 
(sometimes  used  in  the  religious  sense  of  ‘blaspheming’), 
mifhoclad,  ‘speaking  ill,’  and  sinnad,  of  which  the  primary 
sense  is  not  clear.  The  word  gldm,  especially  in  the  phrase 
glam  dichenn,  usually  refers  to  a special  form  of  incantation 
which  will  be  described  later,  but  it  is  sometimes  more  loosely 
employed ; 28  and  groma,  likewise,  appears  in  the  laws  to  be 
associated  with  a particular  process  called  the  glas-gabail.29 
Of  only  occasional,  or  even  rare,  occurrence  are  did,  explained 
in  Cormac’s  Glossary  as  cainte,  ‘satirist’ ; 30  runa,  once  used 
in  the  laws  for  satires ; 31  and  hired  or  berach,  uncertain  both 
in  form  and  in  meaning,  but  apparently  applied  to  a woman- 
satirist  in  a passage  of  the  laws.32  The  word  crosan,  also, 
of  which  the  usual  meaning  is  ‘juggler’  or  ‘buffoon,’  some- 
times means ‘satirist’  as  well.33  Names  for  satire  and  the 
practitioners  of  the  art  are  thus  seen  to  be  rather  numerous 
in  the  Irish  language,  and  they  describe  various  aspects 
of  the  satirists’  work.  Some  of  them  are  restricted  in  ap- 
plication, but  the  majority  are  used  loosely,  and  appear 
frequently  in  combinations  of  two  or  three  even  when  re- 
ferring to  a single  satirical  performance.  It  is  noteworthy, 
moreover,  that  in  their  use  no  distinction  is  made,  or  at  all 
events  steadily  maintained,  between  the  natural  and  the 
supernatural,  between  the  satire  of  magic  malediction  and 
the  satire  of  mockery  or  abuse. 

To  come  to  the  actual  accounts  of  the  Irish  satirists, 
frequent  mention  of  them  is  made  in  the  various  tracts  of 
the  Brehon  laws,  which  preserve,  as  is  well  known,  most 


^ For  the  gldm  dichenn  see  p.  108,  below;  for  other  uses  of  the  word,  and  some 
suggestions  as  to  its  fundamental  meaning,  see  Windisch’s  edition  of  the  Tain  B6 
Cuailnge  (Irische  Texte,  Extraband),  p.  241. 

29  On  the  glas-gabail  see  p.  106,  below. 

30  For  references  to  satire  in  Cormac’s  Glossary  see  pp.  109  ff.,  below. 

31  Ancient  Laws,  ed.  O'Curry,  6.  230.  32  Ibid.  5.  456  ff. 

33  See  Todd’s  edition  of  the  Irish  version  of  Nennius  (Irish  Archaeological 
Society,  1848),  p.  162;  also  Kuno  Meyer’s  Contributions  to  Irish  Lexicography, 
under  crosan.  A peculiar  use  of  the  word  appears  in  the  Senadh  Saighri,  ed.  by 
Meyer  in  the  Gaelic  Journal,  4.  108. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


105 


valuable  evidence  of  the  conditions  of  ancient  Irish  life. 
It  is  clear  that  satirical  attacks  were  a common  form  of  in- 
jury in  all  classes  of  society.34  In  the  law  of  distress  ( i.e . 
the  law  relating  to  the  seizure  of  property  to  be  held  for  the 
enforcement  of  a claim)  it  is  provided  that  three  days’  stay 
shall  regularly  be  allowed  in  cases  of  ordinary  satire,  slander, 
betrayal,  or  false  witness ; 35  but  five  days’  stay  is  the  pre- 
scribed period  for  other  offences,  among  which  are  the  blemish 
of  a nickname,  satirizing  a man  after  his  death,  and  satire 
of  exceptional  power  (?).36  In  these  passages  satire  is 
classified  with  “crimes  of  the  tongue.”  Elsewhere,  as  in  the 
law  relating  to  m’c-fines,  satirizing  and  assault  are  treated  to- 
gether,37 and  again,  these  two  forms  of  injury  are  associated 
with  the  stealing  of  a man’s  cattle  or  the  violation  of  his  wife.38 
The  damages  allowed  for  satire,  as  for  other  injuries,  depend 
in  part  upon  the  rank  of  the  person  injured.  It  is  more  se- 
rious to  satirize  a king’s  son  than  a lower  chief,39  and  a hench- 
man has  a smaller  indemnity  than  a chief  of  aire-fene  rank.40 
From  several  places  it  appears  that  satire  was  in  some  way 
to  be  resisted ; 41  and  a distinction  is  made  between  lawful 
and  unlawful  satire,  comparable,  as  O’Curry  has  pointed  out, 
to  the  distinction  in  the  English  law  of  libel.42  Just  as  in 
the  case  of  fasting  against  an  enemy  or  a debtor  — a familiar 
old  Irish  method  of  enforcing  a claim  or  extorting  a benefit 43 
— so  in  this  matter  of  persecution  by  poets,  the  law  seems 
to  have  recognized,  and  to  have  sought  to  regulate,  an 
ancient  custom  which  was  liable  to  dangerous  abuse. 


34  With  the  references  to  satire  in  the  Irish  laws  should  be  compared  the  treatment 
of  the  subject  in  Italic  and  Germanic  laws,  already  referred  to.  See  particularly 
Usener  on  Italische  Volksjustiz  in  Rheinisches  Museum,  56.  1 ff.,  and  Weinhold, 
Altnordisches  Leben,  pp.  341  ff. 

35  Ancient  Laws  of  Ireland,  1.  152,  162,  231  (published  by  the  Government, 
Dublin,  1865-1901).  The  language  of  the  English  translation  is  quoted,  except 
where  there  is  special  reason  to  depart  from  it. 

36  Ancient  Laws,  1.  185,  237.  The  last  phrase  is  translated  eonjecturally.  See 
d’Arbois  de  Jubainville,  Etudes  sur  le  Droit  Celtique,  2.  181.  For  discussion  of 
certain  inconsistencies  in  the  laws  of  distress,  see  the  same  work,  2.  159  ff. 

37  Ibid.  2.  156;  5.  143,  156.  38  Ibid.  5.  512. 

39  Ibid.  2.  156.  40  Ibid.  4.  348,  352.  41  Ibid.  5.  168,  172. 

42  Ibid.  1.  58;  5.  168,  172,  388.  For  O’Curry’s  comment  see  the  Proceedings 

of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy,  1855,  p.  357. 

43  On  fasting  as  a means  of  distraint,  see  an  article  by  the  present  writer  in  the 
Putnam  Anniversary  Volume  (Cedar  Rapids,  la.,  1909),  pp.  567  ff. 


106 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


In  the  treatise  on  Customary  Law  there  is  a general  analy- 
sis of  crime  (Irish  eitged,  a term  which  apparently  had  the 
general  meaning  of  ‘excess’  or  ‘abnormality’),  and  several 
kinds  of  satire  are  mentioned,  though  the  distinctions  among 
them  are  not  made  very  clear.44  Eitged  of  words  is  said  to 
comprise  spying,  satirizing,  and  nicknaming.  ‘ White  eitged  ’ 
is  distinguished  from  ‘black  eitged,''  the  white  of  flattery 
from  the  black  of  satire.  ‘Speckled  eitged’  is  explained  as 
referring  to  the  three  words  of  warning,  gromfa  gromfa, 
glamfci  glamfa,  aerfa  aerfa,  which  the  English  translator 
of  the  laws,  for  lack  of  specific  equivalents,  renders  “I  will 
grom- satirize,  I will  groan- satirize;  I will  glam- satirize,  I 
will  glam- satirize;  I will  satirize,  I will  satirize.”  Aeraim 
(future  aerfa ) is  the  most  usual  word  for  ‘ satirize,’  as 
already  stated;45  glamfa  is  said  by  the  Irish  commentator 
on  the  passage  to  refer  to  the  glam  dichenn,  which  will  be 
described  later ; 46  and  gromfa  is  similarly  connected  with  the 
glas-gabail,  a procedure  of  uncertain  character.47  That 
‘speckled  eitged ’ is  fundamentally  of  magical  nature  is  clear 
from  the  whole  account  of  it. 

Another  legal  compilation,  the  Heptads,48  designates 
seven  kinds  of  satire  and  discusses  the  ‘honor-price’  appro- 
priate to  each:  “There  are  with  the  Feine  seven  kinds  of 
satire  for  which  dire  is  estimated  ; a nickname  which  clings ; 
recitation  of  a satire  of  insults  in  his  absence ; to  satirize  the 
face ; to  laugh  on  all  sides  ; to  sneer  at  his  form  ; to  magnify 
a blemish  ; satire  which  is  written  by  a bard  who  is  far  away, 
and  which  is  recited.”  49  This  classification,  which  is  clearly 
the  product  of  custom  rather  than  of  pure  logic,  is  not  al- 
together clear,  even  with  the  glosses  of  the  native  commen- 
tators. But  the  passage  shows  the  usual  association  of 
mockery,  invective,  and  magical  injury.  It  is  followed  by 

44  Ancient  Laws.  3.  92  ff.  45  See  p.  103,  above.  46  See  p.  108,  below. 

47  The  glas-gabail  is  mentioned,  but  not  explained,  in  the  Ancient  Laws,  5. 
216.  In  the  same  volume,  p.  230,  it  is  glossed  glama  gnuisi,  ‘satirizing  the  face.’ 
If  this  refers  to  the  disfigurement  by  blisters,  the  glas-gabail  does  not  seem  to  be 
anything  very  different  from  the  glam  dichenn,  at  least  in  its  effects. 

48  Ancient  Laws,  5.  228. 

49  The  last  sentence  contains  one  or  two  obscure  words  which  are  not  translated. 
With  regard  to  the  distinction  between  author  and  reciter,  it  is  to  be  noted  that 
the  Roman  Twelve  Tables  provided  for  the  punishment  of  both  (si  quis 
occentauisset  siue  carmen  condidisset) . Cf.  Usener,  Rheinisches  Museum,  56.  3. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


107 


regulations,  which  need  not  be  repeated  here,  concerning 
the  payment  of  honor-price  to  the  aggrieved  man  and  his 
descendants. 

In  decidedly  the  greater  number  of  passages  in  the  laws 
satire  is  treated  as  a kind  of  misdemeanor  and  the  satirist 
condemned.  Thus  satirists  are  classed  among  the  men  for 
whom  no  one  may  go  surety  ;50  and  woman-satirists,  along 
with  thieves,  liars,  and  bush-strumpets,  are  said  to  have  no 
claim  to  an  honor-price.51  Similarly,  the  son  of  a woman- 
satirist,  like  the  son  of  a bondmaid,  is  declared  to  be  ineli- 
gible to  chieftaincy.52  And  the  same  disparagement  of 
the  class  appears  in  the  definition  of  a demon-banquet  as 
“ a banquet  given  to  the  sons  of  death  and  bad  men,  i.e 
to  lewd  persons  and  satirists,  and  jesters,  and  buffoons,  and 
mountebanks,  and  outlaws,  and  heathens,  and  harlots, 
and  bad  people  in  general ; which  is  not  given  for  earthly 
obligation  or  for  heavenly  reward  — such  a feast  is  for- 
feited to  the  demon.”  53  In  all  these  places  reference 
seems  to  be  made  primarily  to  a low  sort  of  sorcerers  and 
traffickers  in  personal  abuse.  But  the  satirist  was  not 
always  so  conceived  by  the  makers  of  the  laws.  Just  as 
there  was  a distinction,  already  referred  to,  between  lawful 
and  unlawful  satire,  so  the  poet  was  sometimes  praised  and 
rewarded,  rather  than  blamed,  for  his  exercise  of  the  satiriz- 
ing function.  It  may  be  doubted  whether  an  honor  or  a re- 
proach to  the  order  is  implied  by  the  law  that  puts  the  house 
of  a satirist,  along  with  that  of  a king  and  that  of  a thief, 
among  those  into  which  it  is  forbidden  to  drive  cattle  seized 
in  distraint ; 54  but  other  references  are  less  ambiguous.  Be- 
cause of  his  office  as  eulogist  and  satirist  alike,  the  poet  is 
mentioned  among  the  men  who  have  the  special  privilege 
of  speaking  in  public.55  In  another  place,  poets  are  declared 
to  have  peculiar  rights  and  claims  because  of  their  services 
in  composing  lawful  praise  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other 

60  Ancient  Laws,  5.  225.  Cf.  also  d’Arbois  de  Jubainville,  Etudes  sur  le  Droit 
Celtique,  2.  26. 

61  Ancient  Laws,  176.  For  the  association  with  strumpets,  cf.  also  pp.  202-201.. 

62  Ancient  Laws,  5.  456.  63  Ibid.  3.  25. 

54  Ibid.  6.  266-268.  Compare  also  the  law  (5.  235)  which  exempts  poets,  with 
kings,  bishops,  insane  men,  and  others,  from  responsibility  for  paying  their  sons’ 
debts.  66  Ibid.  1.  19. 


108 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


hand,  in  levying  taxes  in  territories  where  ‘points  of  satire’ 
are  regarded  and  where  ‘points  of  weapons’  are  not.56 
And  the  same  power  of  the  poets  which  is  reckoned  as  a 
means  of  enforcing  tribute,  is  also  invoked  in  treaties  as 
a sanction  of  their  observance.57  The  satire  employed 
for  such  purposes  was  doubtless  for  the  most  part  wizardry, 
but  it  may  have  included  some  ridicule  and  some  appeal  to 
the  public  opinion  of  the  tribe.58  At  all  events,  by  virtue 
of  its  exercise,  the  satirists  obtained  a considerable  degree 
of  recognition  as  public  servants. 

The  formal  recognition,  and  even  the  Christian  adoption, 
of  the  old  satire,  with  all  its  magic  elements,  is  further 
strongly  implied  in  the  prescription  of  the  ceremony  for  the 
gldm-dichenn.  This  is  preserved,  not  in  the  laws,  though 
the  gldm-dichenn  is  frequently  named  there,  but  in  one  of 
the  Middle  Irish  treatises  on  versification,59  which  describes 
the  procedure  against  a king  who  refuses  the  proper  reward 
for  a poem.  First  there  was  fasting  on  the  land  of  the  king, 
and  a council  of  thirty  laymen  and  thirty  bishops  and  thirty 
poets  as  to  making  a satire ; and  it  was  a crime  to  prevent  the 
satire  after  the  reward  for  the  poem  was  refused.  Then 
the  poet  himself  with  six  others,  on  whom  the  six  degrees 
of  poets  had  been  conferred,  had  to  go  at  sunrise  to  a hill- 
top on  the  boundary  of  seven  lands  ; and  the  face  of  each  de- 
gree of  them  toward  his  own  land,  and  the  face  of  the 
ollave  there  toward  the  land  of  the  king  whom  he  would 
satirize,  and  the  backs  of  them  all  toward  a hawthorn  which 
should  be  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  the  wind  from  the  north, 

56  Ancient  Laws,  5. 12. 

67  See  Revue  Celtique,  16.  280 ; Annals  of  Clonmaenoise,  p.  39 ; and  Aislinge 
Meic  Conglinne,  ed.  Kuno  Meyer,  pp.  44  ff. ; all  cited  by  Plummer,  YiUe  San> 
torum  Hiberniae,  1.  cii.-ciii. 

58  An  example  of  satire  against  a tribe,  which  was  apparently  of  the  nature  of 
invective  or  insult  rather  than  of  incantation,  is  cited  from  the  Leabhar  Breac 
in  the  Miscellany  of  the  Irish  Archaeological  Society,  1.  179  ff . ; see  also  O 'Don- 
ovan’s edition  of  O’Daly ’s  Tribes  of  Ireland  (Dublin,  1852),  p.  17,  n.  The 
Cine!  Fiacha  of  Westmeath  are  asserted  to  be  of  plebeian  origin.  In  anger  at  the 
Asult  they  murder  the  satirists. 

69  Translated  by  O’Curry,  Manners  and  Customs,  2.  216  ff . ; Atkinson,  Book 
of  Ballymote  (Facsimile),  p.  13a;  and  Stokes,  Revue  Celtique,  12.  119-120; 
and  summarized  and  discussed  by  Thurneysen,  Mittelirische  Verslehren,  pp.  124 
ff.  Thurneysen  questions  the  antiquity  of  the  tradition,  at  least  as  part  of  the 
Verslehren.  But  the  substance  of  the  passage  does  not  look  like  a late  invention. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


109 


and  a slingstone  and  a thorn  of  the  hawthorn  in  every  man ’s 
hand,  and  each  of  them  to  sing  a stave  in  a prescribed  metre 
into  the  slingstone  and  the  thorn,  the  ollave  singing  his 
stave  before  the  others,  and  they  afterwards  singing  their 
staves  at  once ; and  each  was  then  to  put  his  stone  and  his 
thorn  at  the  butt  of  the  hawthorn.  And  if  it  were  they  that 
were  in  the  wrong,  the  earth  of  the  hill  would  swallow 
them  up.  But  if  it  were  the  king  that  was  in  the  wrong,  the 
earth  would  swallow  up  him  and  his  wife  and  his  son  and 
his  horse  and  his  arms  and  his  dress  and  his  hound.  The 
curse  ( gldm ) of  the  Mac  fuirmed 60  fell  on  the  hound ; 
the  curse  of  the  fochloc  on  the  dress  ; the  curse  of  the  doss  on 
the  arms  ; the  curse  of  the  cano  on  the  wife ; the  curse  of  the 
cli  on  the  son ; the  curse  of  the  anradh  on  the  land  ; the  curse 
of  the  ollave  on  the  king  himself.61 

Whether  this  elaborate  ceremony  was  actually  in  common 
practice  does  not  matter  fundamentally  to  the  present  dis- 
cussion. It  may  have  been  largely  invented,  or  at  least 
embellished,  by  some  file  with  a turn  for  magical  liturgy. 
Certainly  the  thirty  bishops  are  suspicious  participants ; 
and  references  to  the  gldm  dichenn  in  Irish  literature  do 
not  usually  suggest  such  a complicated  affair.  The  bishops, 
however,  it  is  to  be  observed,  do  not  actually  have 
a part  in  the  gldm  dichenn,  but  only  in  the  preliminary 
council  which  sanctions  the  proceedings.  There  is  plenty 
of  evidence,  moreover,  as  will  appear  later,  that  Irish  poets 
did  join  in  companies  for  making  or  pronouncing  satires ; 
and  the  characteristic  features  of  the  ceremony  here  de- 
scribed— the  fasting,  the  sympathetic  magic,  and  the  as- 
sumed retroaction  of  the  unjust  curse — are  all  unassailable 
elements  of  popular  practice  or  belief. 

The  passages  cited  from  the  Brehon  laws,  or  used  in  ex- 
planation of  them,  seem  to  show  pretty  clearly  the  impor- 
tance of  poetic  malediction  and  satire  in  the  life  of  the  ancient 
Irish ; and  the  impression  derived  from  the  laws  is  borne 
out  by  frequent  references  in  the  heroic  tales  and  historical 
documents.  In  texts  of  the  strict  Old  Irish  period  — that 

60  This  and  the  following  terms  refer  to  the  various  degrees  of  poets. 

61  Stokes’s  translation  (in  Revue  Celtique,  12.  119),  somewhat  condensed,  is 
followed  in  the  present  account. 


110 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


is,  those  preserved  in  Old  Irish  manuscripts — no  actual  ac- 
counts of  satire  have  been  noted  by  the  writer,  though 
some  of  the  words  regularly  used  for  it  already  occur  in 
documents  of  the  time.62  In  view  of  the  fact  that  the  Old 
Irish  texts  are  chiefly  glosses,  the  lack  of  such  material  is 
not  surprising.  But  Cormac’s  Glossary,  which  is  generally 
conceded,  though  the  manuscripts  of  it  are  Middle  Irish, 
to  be  a work  of  the  ninth  or  tenth  century,  and  which  is 
therefore  one  of  the  earliest  documents  preserving  any 
considerable  quantity  of  native  Irish  tradition,  contains  a 
score  or  more  of  references  to  the  custom.  Several  words 
are  there  explained  as  having  to  do  with  the  satirist  or 
his  work.  Leos  is  defined  as  “a  blush  wherewith  a person 
is  reddened  after  a satire  or  reproach  of  him  ” ; and  one  mean- 
ing of  ferb  is  said  to  be  “a  blotch  which  is  put  on  the  face  of 
a man  after  a satire  or  false  judgment.”  63  A similar  con- 
ception of  the  physical  effect  of  satire  (which  will  be  dis- 
cussed again  later)  appears  in  the  definition  of  rinntaid, 
“ nomen  for  a man  of  satire,  who  wounds  or  cuts  each  face.” 
Both  groma  and  glam  are  defined,  and  the  latter  explained 
as  coming  ab  eo  quod  est  clamor.  The  etymology,  like  that 
proposed  for  cainte,  satirist,  — “i.e.  cams , a dog,  for  the 
satirist  has  a dog’s  head  in  barking,  and  alike  is  the  profes- 
sion they  follow”  — has  no  value  in  the  eyes  of  modern 
science,  but  such  comments  are  of  some  incidental  interest. 
And  this  is  particularly  true  of  the  etymology  proposed 
for  file,  poet,  “from  poison  (fi)  in  satire  and  splendour 
(li)  in  praise.”  The  derivation  is  again  impossible,  but 
in  associating  the  word  for  poet  with  the  ‘poison  of 
satire’  Cormac  anticipates,  on  the  semasiological  side,  the 
modern  theories,  already  mentioned,  with  regard  to  the 
Germanic  words  ‘scop’  and  ‘scoff.’  64 

More  interesting,  however,  than  any  of  these  definitions  65 
are  four  actual  pieces  of  old  satirical  verse  which  Cormac  has 
preserved  among  his  citations.  Under  riss,  ‘story,’  a line 

62  See  particularly  Ascoli’s  Glossarium  Palaeohibernicum  under  air  and  its 
compounds. 

63  There  is  a similar  explanation  in  the  Amra  Choluimb  Chille.  See  p.  114,  below. 

64  See  p.  102,  above. 

65  For  other  references  to  the  subject  in  Cormac,  not  mentioned  above,  see  the 
articles  on  aithrinne,  doeduine,  dul,  and  trefhocal. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


111 


is  quoted  and  declared  to  come  from  the  poem  of  Coirpre 
mac  Etaine  against  Bres  mac  Elathain,  the  first  satire  which 
was  made  in  Ireland.  Under  cernine , ‘ dish,’  another  line  from 
the  same  poem  is  cited ; but  Cormac  nowhere  gives  the  rest 
of  the  satire.  In  the  saga  of  the  Second  Battle  of  Moytura,66 
however,  the  whole  story  is  told  to  which  allusion  is  made 
in  the  passages  cited.  According  to  this  account,  Coirpre, 
the  poet  of  the  Tuatha  De  Danann,  once  came  a-guesting  to 
the  house  of  Bres.  “He  entered  a cabin  narrow,  black,  dark, 
wherein  there  was  neither  fire  nor  furniture  nor  bed.  Three 
small  cakes,  and  they  dry,  were  brought  to  him  on  a little 
dish.  On  the  morrow  he  arose,  and  he  was  not  thankful. 
As  he  went  across  the  garth,  he  said : 

Without  food  quickly  on  a dish ; 

Without  a cow’s  milk  whereon  a calf  grows ; 

Without  a man’s  abode  under  the  gloom  ( ?)  of  night;  67 

Without  paying  a company  of  story-tellers  — let  that  be  Bres’s  condition.” 

As  a result  of  the  verse  it  is  said  that  nought  save  decay 
was  on  Bres  from  that  hour. 

Under  the  word  Munnu,  interpreted  as  Mo  Fhinnu, 
a pet  name,  the  following  quatrain  is  quoted  and  said  to 
come  from  the  satire  of  Maedoc  Ferna  against  Munnu, 
the  son  of  Tulchan : 

O little  vassal  of  mighty  God  ! 

O son  of  Tulchan,  O Shepherd  ! 

She  bore  a troublesome  child  to  a family. 

The  mother  that  bore  thee,  Fintan  ! 

Other  evidence  concerning  this  satire  has  apparently  not 
been  preserved ; in  fact  some  very  similar  lines  are  quoted 
in  the  commentary  on  the  Martyrology  of  Oengus  and 
attributed  to  Columbeille.68 

66  See  Stokes’s  edition  and  translation.  Revue  Celtique,  12.  71.  The  quatrain 
is  also  given  in  some  manuscripts  of  the  Amra  Choluimb  Chille ; cf.  O’Beirne 
Crowe’s  edition,  p.  26  (from  the  Lebor  na  h-Uidhre),  and  Stokes’s  edition 
(from  Ms.  Rawl.  B.  502)  in  Revue  Celtique,  20.  158.  The  story  is  told  sepa- 
rately in  Yellow  Book  of  Lecan,  p.  137b,  and  also  (apparently)  in  Trinity  College 
Ms.  H.  3,  17.  See  the  Catalogue  of  Mss.  in  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  p.  352. 

07  The  readings  of  this  line  differ  in  the  manuscripts,  and  the  translation  is  un- 
certain. 

68  See  the  notes  to  the  Martyrology,  under  Oct.  21  (Stokes’s  edition  for  the 
Henry  Bradshaw  Society,  p.  226). 


112 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


A third  quatrain,  which  also  appears,  as  Stokes  points 
out,  to  be  of  satirical  character,  is  quoted  under  the  word 
rer,  ‘ blackbird.’ 

Hard  to  thee  69  the  little  stripling. 

Son  of  the  little  blackbird  ! 

Have  thou  every  good  thing  ready  before  him, 

O little  head  (that  is,  O head  of  a little  goose)  ! 

The  son  of  the  little  blackbird  is  doubtless  the  poet  Flann 
MacLonain,  whom  the  Four  Masters  call  “the  Virgil  of  the 
race  of  the  Scots  ” ; and  the  person  addressed  is  Finnguine, 
King  of  Cashel,  known  as  Cenn-gegain,  ‘head  of  a little 
goose.’  The  lines  contain  little  more  than  word-play  on 
the  diminutive  formations  in  the  names,  and  the  circum- 
stances referred  to  are  unknown.70 

A typical  story  of  satire,  as  it  was  employed  among  the 
Irish,  is  attached  to  a fourth  stanza,  quoted  by  Cormac 
under  the  word  gaire,  ‘shortness  (of  life).’  The  lines  are 
said  to  have  been  uttered  by  Nede,  the  son  of  Adnae,  against 
Caier,  his  uncle,  the  king  of  Connaught,  and  the  whole  epi- 
sode is  narrated  in  the  version  of  Corinae’s  Glossary  in  the 
Yellow  Book  of  Lecan.71  “Caier,”  as  the  tale  goes,  “had 
adopted  Nede  as  his  son,  because  he  had  no  son  at  all.  The 
mind  of  Caier ’s  wife  clave  unto  Nede.  She  gave  an  apple  of 
silver  unto  Nede  for  his  love.  Nede  consented  not,  and  she 
promised  him  half  the  realm  after  Caier,  if  he  would  go  in 
unto  her.  ‘How  shall  this  happen  to  us  ?’ said  Nede.  ‘Not 
difficult,’  said  the  woman,  ‘make  thou  a satire  on  him,  so 
that  a blemish  come  upon  him.  Then  the  man  with  the 
blemish  shall  be  no  longer  king.’  ‘Not  easy  to  me  is  this 
thing ; the  man  will  not  make  refusal  to  me.  There  is  nothing 
in  the  world  in  his  possession  that  he  will  not  give  me.’ 

G9  This  is  Stokes ’s  rendering  of  uindsi  chucat;  perhaps  it  should  rather  be  trans- 
lated ‘ here  comes  to  thee.  ’ 

70  On  Flann  mac  Lonain  see  O'Reilly,  Irish  Writers,  pp.  Iviii.  ff. ; O’Curry 
Manners  and  Customs,  2.  98-104;  Todd’s  edition  of  the  Cogadh  Gaedhel  re  Gal 
laibh  (Rolls  Series),  p.  x. ; Hennessy’s  edition  of  Chronieon  Scotorum  (Rolls 
Series),  p.  175. 

71  See  Stokes’s  Three  Irish  Glossaries,  pp.  xxxvi.  ff.  Stokes's  translation, 
slightly  condensed  by  the  omission  of  doubtful  words  and  of  glossarial  passages,  is 
here  followed.  Part  of  Nede’s  satirical  stanza  is  quoted  at  the  end  of  the  account 
of  the  oldm  dichenn  in  the  metrical  treatise  already  referred  to.  See  pp.  108,  above, 
and  Thurneysen,  Mittelirische  Vcrslehren,  p.  125. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


113 


‘ I know,’  said  the  woman,  ‘a  thing  that  he  will  not  give 
thee,  namely,  the  dagger  that  was  brought  him  from  the 
lands  of  Alba  he  will  not  give  thee ; he  is  forbidden  to  part 
with  it.’  Nede  asked  Caier  for  the  dagger.  ‘ Woe  is  me,’ 
said  Caier,  ‘ I am  forbidden  to  part  with  it.’  Nede  made  a 
glam  dichenn  upon  him,  and  three  blisters  came  forth  on  his 
cheeks.  This  is  the  satire : 

Evil,  death,  short  life  to  Caier  ! 

Let  spears  of  battle  wound  him,  Caier  ! 

Caier  . . . ! Caier  . . . ! Caier  under  earth. 

Under  ramparts,  under  stones  be  Caier  ! 72 

Caier  arose  next  morning  early  (and  went)  to  the  well. 
He  put  his  hand  over  his  countenance.  He  found  on  his 
face  three  blisters  which  the  satire  had  caused,  namely, 
Stain,  Blemish,  and  Defect,  to  wit,  red,  and  green,  and  white. 
Caier  fled  thence  that  none  might  see  the  disgrace,  until 
he  was  in  Dun  Cermnai  with  Cacher,  son  of  Eitirscel. 
Nede  took  the  realm  of  Connaught  after  him.  He  was  there 
till  the  end  of  a year.  Grievous  unto  him  was  Caier ’s 
torment.  Nede  went  after  him  to  Dun  Cermnai,  seated  in 
Caier ’s  chariot,  and  Caier ’s  wife  and  his  greyhound  were  with 
him.  Fair  was  the  chariot  that  went  to  the  fort ! His  face 
told  how  it  was  with  him.  ‘ Whose  is  that  color  ? ’ said 
every  one.  Said  Caier:  ‘ Twas  we  that  rode  on  his  high 
seat  by  the  seat  of  the  charioteer.  ’ ‘ That  is  a king ’s 

word,’  said  Cacher,  son  of  Eitirscel.  (Caier  was  not  known 
to  him  up  to  that  time.)  ‘ No,  truly,  I am  not,’  said  Caier. 
With  that  Caier  fled  ( ?)  from  them  out  of  the  house,  till 
he  was  on  the  flagstone  behind  the  fort.  Nede  went  in  his 
chariot  into  the  fort.  The  dogs  pursued  Caier’s  track  until 
they  found  him  under  the  flagstone  behind  the  fort.  Caier 
died  for  shame  on  seeing  Nede.  The  rock  flamed  at  Caier’s 
death,  and  a fragment  of  the  rock  flew  up  under  Nede’s 
eye,  and  pierced  into  his  head.”  The  exact  manner  of 
Nede’s  punishment  is  differently  described  in  a stanza  on 
the  justice  of  his  fate,  with  which  the  account  ends  : 

A stone  that  happened  to  be  under  Caier’s  foot 
Sprang  up  the  height  of  a sail-tree. 


72  Several  words  in  the  quatrain  are  of  uncertain  meaning. 


114 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


Fell  — not  unjust  was  the  decree  — 

On  the  head  of  the  poet  from  above. 

A number  of  elements  in  this  story  are  of  interest  to 
the  student  of  early  institutions  and  beliefs : the  symbolical 
use,  for  example,  of  the  apple  of  silver,73  or  the  peculiar 
prohibition  (Irish  geis,  a kind  of  taboo)  which  forbade 
Caier  to  part  with  his  dagger,74  or  the  provision  that  a king 
with  a bodily  blemish  must  abdicate  his  throne.76  But 
attention  must  here  be  called  rather  to  what  concerns  the 
satire  itself  — to  the  poet’s  effort  to  find  an  excuse  for  his 
attack,  to  his  final  punishment  for  unjust  satire,  in  spite  of 
his  ruse,  and  to  the  detailed  account  of  the  blemishing  effect 
of  his  maledictory  verse.  The  pimples,  blushes,  or  other 
kinds  of  disfigurement  produced  by  satire  have  been  several 
times  referred  to  in  passages  previously  cited.  Here  in  the 
story  of  Caier  three  blotches,  red,  green,  and  white,  are 
definitely  mentioned,  and  called  Stain,  Blemish,  and  Defect. 
The  allegorical  interpretation  may  be  relatively  late,  though 
such  treatment  of  abstract  qualities  is  by  no  means  without 
parallel  in  early  Irish  literature.  But  the  general  concep- 
tion of  facial  disfigurement  as  the  result  of  magic  persecu- 
tion or  even  as  a punishment  for  some  form  of  misbehavior 
is  very  widespread.  Among  the  Irish  the  affliction  was 
visited  not  only  on  the  victim  of  an  incantation,  as  in  the 
case  of  Caier,  but  sometimes  on  the  poet  himself,76  if  his 
satire  was  unjust,  and  also  on  a judge  who  rendered  an 
unjust  verdict.77  Somewhat  similar  is  the  case  of  Bricriu, 
mentioned  in  the  Scela  Conchobair  maie  Nessa,  who  had  a 

73  Compare  the  gifts  of  Finnabair  to  Ferdiad,  Tain  Bo  Cualnge,  L.  W.  Farraday’s 
translation  (London,  1904),  p.  100.  See  also  Gaidoz,  La  Requisition  d’Amour 
et  le  Symbolisme  de  la  Pomme  (Annuaire  de  l’Ecole  des  Hautes  Etudes,  1902), 
with  reviewer’s  remarks  in  Revue  Archeologique,  1902, 1.  134  ; Lot,  in  Romania,  27. 
560,  n. ; Foster,  on  the  Symbolism  of  Apples  in  Classical  Antiquity,  in  Harvard 
Studies  in  Classical  Philology,  10.  43  If. ; and  Leite  de  Vasconcellos,  in  Revista 
Lusitana,  7.  126  ff. 

74  For  illustrations  of  the  geis,  from  early  Irish  sagas,  see  an  article  by  Miss 
Eleanor  Hull,  in  Folklore,  12.  40  If. 

75  For  this  requirement  that  the  king  shall  be  free  from  all  deformities  or  blemishes 
see  Ancient  Laws,  1.  73;  2.  279;  3.  85.  Compare  also  the  story  of  Nuada  of  the 
Silver  Hand,  discussed  by  Rhys,  Hibbert  Lectures,  p.  120. 

76  See  Revue  Celtique,  20.  422,  and  Liber  LLymnorum , ed.  Atkinson,  p.  173. 

77  See  Ancient  Laws,  4.  16 ; also  Revue  Celtique,  24.  279. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


115 


boil  rise  from  his  forehead  whenever  he  tried  to  withhold  a 
secret.78  And  many  readers  will  recall,  what  is  at  bottom 
the  same  idea,  the  Greek  belief,  mentioned  by  Bacon  in 
his  essay  ‘Of  Praise,’  that  “he  that  was  praised  to  his  hurt 
should  have  a push  rise  upon  his  nose ; as  we  say  that  a 
blister  will  rise  upon  one’s  tongue  that  tells  a lie.”  79  That 
there  is  a physiological  basis  for  all  such  notions  no  one,  in 
these  days  of  psychotherapy,  will  be  disposed  to  deny.80 

Of  the  four  satirical  pieces  that  have  been  quoted  from  the 
Glossary  of  Cormac,  two,  it  is  to  be  noted,  are  really  incanta- 
tions, and  two  are  rather  mocking  than  maledictory  in  tone. 
Thus  the  examples  of  satire  in  an  early  document  show  the 
same  confusion  of  different  types  that  was  observed  in  the 
references  to  the  subject  in  the  laws.  And  this  close  asso- 
ciation of  incantational  verse  with  other  forms  of  poetry 
will  frequently  appear  in  the  accounts  of  satirists  to  be 
cited  from  Irish  sagas. 

In  the  further  illustration  of  the  subject  from  these  sources 
no  attempt  will  be  made  to  follow  a strict  chronological  order 
of  events.  Some  of  the  saga  material  to  be  used  is  doubtless 
older,  at  least  in  substance,  than  Cormac’s  Glossary,  and 
the  examples  taken  from  that  work  have  fully  established 
the  existence  of  satire,  in  the  senses  under  discussion,  in 
the  Old  Irish  period.  The  practice  of  it  has  survived 
among  the  Gaels,  as  will  be  shown  later,81  down  to  the  pres- 
ent time.  Beyond  these  general  statements  of  chronology 
it  is  not  necessary  to  go.  And  there  is,  in  fact,  no  reason 
for  insisting  on  the  antiquity  of  the  evidences  with  regard 
to  this  custom,  since  nobody  will  contend  (as  is  often  con- 
tended with  regard  to  the  much-debated  elements  of  Celtic 
and  Arthurian  romance)  that  the  Irish  borrowed  it  from 
other  peoples  of  mediaeval  Europe. 

It  is  noteworthy,  as  has  already  been  remarked,  that 

78  See  Eriu,  4,  21,  32. 

79  Cf.  Theocritus,  Idylls,  ix.  30;  xii.  24.  The  Greek  idea  was  apparently  rather 
that  the  flatterer  himself  had  the  push  rise  upon  him.  For  further  illustration  of 
the  Irish  belief,  see  D.  Fitzgerald  in  the  Revue  Celtique,  6.  195  (citing  a South 
African  parallel). 

80  Both  Rhys  (Hibbert  Lectures,  pp.  324  ff.)  and  Zimmer  (Keltische  Lit- 

eraturen,  in  Kultur  der  Gegenwart,  pp.  50-51)  have  discussed  the  physiological 
side  of  the  question.  81  See  p.  127,  below. 


116 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


tales  of  destructive  satire  are  associated  with  some  of  the 
most  conspicuous  poets  in  Irish  history  and  saga.  The 
man  who  was  perhaps  most  famous  for  the  exercise  of  this 
dangerous  power  was  Aithirne  the  Importunate,  who  was 
so  representative  a satirist  that  in  the  metaphorical  language 
of  poetry  sciath  Aithirni,  ‘the  shield  of  Aithirne,’  became 
a ‘kenning’  for  satire.82  His  ruthless  exactions,  from  which 
he  derived  his  sobriquet,  are  described  in  the  saga  of  the 
Siege  of  Howth,83  where  he  is  declared  to  have  been  “a 
hard,  merciless  man,”  “a  man  who  asked  the  one-eyed 
for  his  single  eye,  and  who  used  to  demand  the  woman  in 
child-bed.”  So  much  was  he  feared  that  when,  in  the 
course  of  his  bardic  circuit,  he  approached  the  borders  of 
Leinster,  the  people  came  forth  to  meet  him  and  offered 
him  jewels  and  treasures  not  to  come  into  their  country, 
so  that  he  might  not  leave  invectives.  And  any  man 
would  give  his  wife  to  Aithirne,  or  the  single  eye  out  of  his 
head,  or  whatever  Aithirne  might  desire  of  jewels  and  treas- 
ures. As  the  result  of  an  enforced  contribution  of  women 
and  cattle,  levied  by  him  on  the  men  of  Leinster,  came  about 
the  siege  of  Howth  and  a war  between  Leinster  and  Ulster.84 

That  Aithirne  sometimes  met  his  match  appears  from 
a short  story  in  the  Book  of  Leinster,  which  describes  his 
defeat  at  the  hands  of  another  poet.85  Because  of  his 
niggardliness,  it  is  declared,  Aithirne  never  ate  his  full  meal 
in  a place  where  any  one  could  see  him.  He  proceeded,  there- 
fore, on  one  occasion  to  take  with  him  a cooked  pig  and  a 
pot  of  mead,  in  order  that  he  might  eat  his  fill  all  alone. 
And  he  set  in  order  before  him  the  pig  and  the  pot  of  mead 
when  he  beheld  a man  coming  towards  him.  “Thou 
wouldst  do  it  all  alone,”  said  the  stranger,  whilst  lie  took  the 
pig  and  the  pot  away  from  him.  “What  is  thy  name?” 
said  Aithirne.  “Nothing  very  grand,”  said  he: 

“Sethor,  ethor,  othor,  sele,  dele,  dreng,  gerce. 

Son  of  Gerluscc,  sharp  sharp,  right  right,  that  is  my  name.” 

82  See  Revue  Celtique,  26.  24. 

83  Edited  and  translated  by  Stokes,  Revue  Celtique,  8.  47  ff.  See  also  O’Curry’s 
Manuscript  Materials,  pp.  266  ff. 

84  Rhys  (Hibbert  Lectures,  p.  325)  observes  in  Aithime’s  defence  that  the 
disparaging  account  of  him  comes  from  the  Book  of  Leinster,  and  that  the  Lcinster- 
men  were  his  hereditary  foes. 

85  Quoted  and  discussed  by  Rhys,  Hibbert  Lectures,  p.  332. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


117 


Aithirne  neither  got  the  pig,  nor  was  able  to  make  rhyme 
to  the  satire.  It  is  evident  that  it  was  one  come  from  God 
to  take  away  the  pig ; for  Aithirne  was  not  stingy  from  that 
hour  forth. 

The  use  of  the  ordinary  Irish  word  for  satire  ( aer ) here, 
where  no  personal  attack  or  invective  is  involved,  shows 
the  range  of  its  employment.  The  lines  of  the  strange 
visitor  are  of  course  to  be  regarded  as  a spell,  and  the  con- 
test to  which  Aithirne  is  invited  is  really  a contest  in  magic 
power.  In  fact,  many  of  the  stories  of  verse-capping,  with 
which  popular  literature  abounds,86  are  something  more  than 
tests  of  poetical  skill,  and  the  whole  literary  type  known 
as  the  debate,  or  Streitgedicht,  owes  more  than  is  commonly 
recognized  to  the  ancient  practice  of  competition  between 
rival  magician-poets.  But  that  matter  must  be  left  for 
investigation  and  discussion  at  another  time. 

To  return  to  Aithirne,  the  usual  result  of  refusing  his  re- 
quests is  seen  in  the  saga  of  Aithirne  and  Luaine,  which 
belongs  to  the  cycle  of  King  Conchobar  of  Ulster.87  After 
the  death  of  Deirdriu,  it  is  related,  Conchobar  was  in  great 
sorrow,  and  no  joy  or  beauty  could  appease  his  spirit.  The 
chief  men  of  Ulster  urged  him  to  search  the  provinces  of 
Erin,  if  perchance  he  might  find  therein  the  daughter  of 
a king  or  a noble,  who  would  drive  away  his  grief  for  Deir- 
driu, and  to  this  he  assented.  After  a long  search  his  mes- 
sengers found  Luaine,  the  daughter  of  Domanchenn,  the  one 
maiden  in  Ireland  who  had  upon  her  the  ways  of  Deirdriu 
in  shape  and  sense  and  handicraft ; and  when  Conchobar 
beheld  her  there  was  no  bone  in  him  the  size  of  an  inch  that 
was  not  filled  with  long-lasting  love  for  the  girl.  She  was 
betrothed  to  him,  and  her  bride-price  was  bound  upon  him. 
When  Aithirne  the  Importunate  and  his  two  sons  heard  of 
the  plighting  of  the  maiden  to  Conchobar,  they  went  to  beg 
boons  of  her.  At  sight  of  her  they  gave  love  to  her,  and 
besought  her  to  play  the  king  false.  On  her  refusal  they 

86  General  references  on  the  subject  of  verse-capping  are  hardly  necessary  here. 
For  some  discussion  and  illustrations,  see  Gummere,  The  Beginnings  of  Poetry,  pp. 
400  ff.  Early  Irish  instances  (with  parallels  from  other  literatures)  are  noted  by 
Stokes  in  the  translation  of  Cormac’s  Glossary  (Ir.  Arch.  Society),  p 138;  see 
also  Irische  Texte,  4.  92  ff.,  303. 

87  Edited  and  translated  by  Stokes,  Revue  Celtique,  24.  272  ff. 


118 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


made  three  satires  upon  her,  which  left  three  blotches  on 
her  cheeks,  namely  Stain  and  Blemish  and  Disgrace,  which 
were  black  and  red  and  white.  And  thereupon  the  maiden 
died  of  shame.  When  Conchobar  learned  of  her  death, 
great  silence  fell  upon  him,  and  his  grief  was  second  only 
to  his  grief  for  Deirdriu.  He  took  counsel  with  the 
Ulstermen  concerning  the  punishment  of  Aithirne  and 
his  sons.  Luaine’s  father  and  mother  urged  revenge,  but 
Cathbad,  the  Druid,  gave  warning  that  Aithirne  would  send 
beasts  of  prey  against  them,  namely  Satire  and  Disgrace  and 
Shame  and  Curse  and  Fire  ( ?)  and  Bitter  Word.  In  the 
end  they  decided  upon  Aithirne’s  destruction ; and  after  the 
funeral  rites  had  been  celebrated  for  Luaine,  the  Ulstermen 
followed  Aithirne  to  Benn  Aithirni,  and  walled  him  in  with 
his  sons  and  all  his  household,  and  killed  Mor  and  Midseng, 
his  two  daughters,  and  burnt  his  fortress  upon  him.  But 
the  doing  of  that  deed,  it  is  said,  seemed  evil  to  the  poets 
of  Ulster.  Although  the  magician  in  Aithirne  so  much 
outweighs  the  poet,  yet  the  bards  took  up  his  cause,  and 
Amairgen,  the  chief  poet,  Aithirne’s  fosterling  and  pupil, 
made  a lamentation  upon  him. 

Aithirne  and  the  kings  with  whom  he  is  associated  belong 
distinctly  to  the  field  of  saga,  but  similar  tales  are  told  of 
poets  who  lived  within  the  historical  period  or  in  relation  with 
historical  persons.  Dalian  Forgail,  of  the  sixth  century, 
the  traditional  author  of  the  Amra  Choluimb  Chille,  is 
said  to  have  composed  both  songs  of  praise  and  satirical 
verses  upon  Aed  mac  Duacli  in  an  effort  to  obtain  from  him, 
by  fair  means  or  foul,  his  famous  shield,  the  Dubh-Ghilla.*s 
And  the  death  of  Niall  of  the  Nine  Hostages,  one  of  the  chief 
leaders  of  the  marauding  Scots  at  the  beginning  of  the 
fifth  century,  was  directly  due,  according  to  one  account,89 
to  strife  engendered  by  a satirist.  Echu,  the  son  of  Enna 
Censelach,  the  tale  relates,  when  on  his  way  from  the  house 
of  Niall  to  his  own  people  in  Leinster,  sought  food  at  the 
house  of  Laidchenn,  Niall’s  poet.  Laidchenn  refused 

88  See  the  Imtheacht  na  Tromdhaimhe,  ed.  Connellan  (1860),  pp.  12  ff. 

89  See  the  story  of  Niall’s  death,  from  Ms.  Rawl.  B.  502,  edited  and  translated 
by  K.  Meyer,  Otia  Merseiana,  2.  84  ff.  Cf.  O’Curry,  Manners  and  Customs,  2. 
70  ff. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


119 


Echu  hospitality,  and  Echu  revenged  himself  later  by  de- 
stroying the  poet’s  house  and  killing  his  son.  Thereupon 
for  a whole  year  Laidehenn  kept  satirizing  and  lampooning 
and  cursing  the  men  of  Leinster,  so  that  neither  grass  nor 
corn  grew  with  them,  nor  a leaf,  to  the  end  of  a year.  Niall 
also  went  to  Leinster,  and  forced  the  people  to  give  him 
Echu  in  bonds  as  a hostage ; but  Echu  broke  his  chains,  and 
slew  nine  champions  who  came  up  to  kill  him,  and  rejoined 
his  people.  A second  time  Niall  demanded  that  the  Lein- 
stermen  give  up  Echu,  and  when  this  was  done,  Laidehenn  be- 
gan to  revile  Echu  and  the  Leinstermen,  so  that  they  melted 
away  before  him.  But  Echu  let  fly  a champion’s  stone, 
which  he  had  in  his  belt,  and  it  hit  Laidehenn  in  the  crown 
of  his  forehead  and  lodged  in  his  skull.  Echu  was  exiled 
from  Ireland,  but  this  did  not  put  an  end  to  the  feud,  and 
afterward,  in  Alba,  Niall  himself  fell  by  an  arrow  from  Echu’s 
hand.  While  the  satires  of  Laidehenn  are  plainly  of  the 
nature  of  spells,  it  is  clear  that  he  was  regarded  in  Irish 
tradition  as  a real  poet,  and  not  a mere  pronouncer  of  charms. 
Poems  on  the  history  of  the  kings  of  Leinster,  ascribed  to 
him,  though  not  to  be  taken  as  authentic,  will  be  found  in 
the  Rawlinson  Manuscript  B 502. 90 

With  the  satires  of  Laidehenn,  which  blighted  the  whole 
face  of  Leinster,  may  be  compared  the  spells  attributed  to 
Ferchertne,  another  great  poet  of  the  heroic  age,  before 
whom,  according  to  a passage  in  the  Tain  Bo  Cualnge 
(The  Cattle-Spoil  of  Cooley),  the  lakes  and  streams  sank 
when  he  blamed  them  and  rose  when  he  praised  them.91 
They  bring  to  mind  also  the  threat  of  Forgoll,  the  poet,  in 
the  Voyage  of  Bran,  when  upon  occasion  of  a disagree- 
ment with  Mongan,  he  declared  that  he  would  satirize 
Mongan  and  his  father  and  his  mother  and  his  grandfather ; 
singing  spells  upon  their  waters  so  that  no  fish  should  be 
caught  in  their  river-mouths,  and  on  their  woods  so  that  they 
should  bear  no  fruit,  and  on  their  plains  so  that  they  should 
be  barren  of  produce.92 

90  See  the  collotype  facsimile,  edited  by  Kuno  Meyer,  introduction,  p.  ix.,  and 
text,  pp.  116  ff. 

91  Tain  Bo  Cualnge,  ed.  Windisch  (Irische  Texte,  Extraband),  p.  789. 

92  The  Voyage  of  Bran,  Meyer  and  Nutt,  1.  49. 


120 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


Enough  has  been  said  to  show  the  association  of  satire 
and  malediction  with  Irish  poets  of  high  station.  The 
frequency  of  the  practice  in  the  life  of  the  people  is  further 
indicated  by  many  passages  in  the  sagas.  In  the  great 
central  tale  of  the  Ulster  cycle,  the  Tain  Bo  Ciialnge,  for 
example,  satirists  appear  in  several  important  episodes. 
The  account  of  Ferchertne  and  his  spells  has  just  been  re- 
ferred to.  Redg,  another  satirist,  is  employed  against 
Cuehulainn  when  the  latter  is  holding  at  bay  all  the  army 
of  Connaught.  He  is  sent  to  ask  Cuehulainn  for  his  spear ; 
and  upon  Cuchulainn’s  refusal  he  threatens  to  take  away 
his  honor.  Then  Cuehulainn  lets  him  have  the  spear  in 
the  back  of  his  head,  and  kills  him.93  Again,  when  Ferdiad, 
the  companion  of  Cuchulainn’s  youth,  refuses  to  take  part 
against  him,  Medb  sends  the  druids  and  the  satirists  and 
the  hard -attackers  to  him,  that  they  may  make  three  satires 
to  hold  him,  and  three  imprecations  ( glamma  dicend), 
that  they  may  raise  the  three  blotches  on  his  face,  Shame 
and  Blemish  and  Disgrace,  so  that  if  he  does  not  die  at  once 
he  may  die  before  the  end  of  nine  days,  if  he  will  not  go 
into  the  fight.  And  Ferdiad  yields,  preferring  to  fall  before 
the  spears  of  bravery  and  warfare  and  prowess  rather  than 
before  the  spears  of  satire  and  insult  and  abuse.94  On 
another  occasion  two  female  satirists  from  the  camp  of 
Connaught  stand  over  Cuehulainn  and  weep  in  hypocrisy, 
predicting  the  ruin  of  Ulster.95  And  again,  the  Morrigap 
herself,  the  battle-goddess,  appears  to  Cuehulainn  in  a simi- 
lar guise.96  In  the  text  of  the  Tain  Bo  Cualnge  she  is  not 
called  a satirist,  but  she  applies  the  name  to  herself  in  the 
Tain  Bo  Regamna,  where  she  plays  the  same  part.97 

A few  more  illustrations  of  destructive  satires  may  be 
cited  from  the  great  collection  of  early  Irish  topographical 
legends  which  is  known  as  the  Dindsenchas.98  In  the  ae- 

93  See  the  Tain  Bo  Cualnge,  Windisch’s  edition,  p.  273.  And  compare  a simi- 
lar episode  in  the  Aided  Conchulainn,  Revue  Celtique,  3.  78  ff. 

94  Tain  Bo  Cualnge,  Windisch’s  edition,  p.  441.  90  Ibid.  p.  829. 

96  See  the  Tain  Bo  Cualnge,  Lebor  na  h-Uidre  version.  Miss  Farraday’s  transla- 
tion (Grimm  Library),  p.  74. 

97  See  the  Irische  Texte,  ed.  Windisch  and  Stokes,  vol.  2,  part  ii.  p.  258. 

98  References  are  made  here  to  Stokes’s  edition  and  translation  of  the  prose  por- 
tion of  the  Dindsenchas  from  the  Rennes  Ms.,  Revue  Celtique,  vols.  16  and  16. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


121 


count  of  Mullaglimast,"  Maistiu,  by  whose  name  that  of 
the  place  is  explained,  is  said  to  have  refused  certain  demands 
of  Gris,  the  female  rhymester,  who  so  maltreated  her  with 
blemishing  satires  that  she  died  thereof  before  her.  The 
Dindsenchas  of  Dublin100  affords  another  instance  of  death 
from  the  verse  of  a poetess,  but  in  this  case  the  poem  is 
described  as  a sea-spell.  Dub,  the  wife  of  Enna,  discovered 
that  her  husband  had  another  wife,  Aide,  the  daughter 
of  Ochenn.  In  jealousy,  then,  Dub  chanted  a sea-spell  be- 
fore Ochenn’s  house,  so  that  Aide  was  drowned  with  all  her 
family.101  In  still  another  case,  in  the  Dindsenchas  of  Fa- 
faind,102  the  result  of  the  satirist’s  verses  is  not  death  but 
disfigurement,  as  has  been  noted  several  times  before. 
Aige,  the  sister  of  Fafne,  the  poet,  was  transformed  into  a 
fawn  by  her  enemies,  and  then  slain  by  the  king’s  men. 
Thereupon  Fafne  went  to  blemish  the  king,  and  raised  the 
customary  three  blotches  upon  him.  In  punishment  for 
this  Fafne  was  arrested  and  put  to  death. 

It  is  apparent  from  a number  of  passages  cited,  and  par- 
ticularly from  the  description  of  the  gldm  dichenn,103  that 
satirists  often  plied  their  work  in  companies.  A whole  body 
of  “druids  and  satirists  and  hard-attackers”  were  sent  by 
Mebd  to  force  Ferdiad  into  battle.104  Kings  had  bands  of 
satirists  in  their  employ,105  and  poets  are  sometimes  grouped 
with  other  forces  to  be  counted  upon  in  war.106  In  the  tale 


An  edition  of  the  metrical  Dindsenchas  has  been  begun  by  E.  Gwynn  in  the  Todd 
Lecture  Series  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy  (vols.  7 and  8). 

99  Revue  Celtique,  16.  334  ff.  100  Ibid.  p.  326. 

101  A somewhat  similar  tale  of  a jealous  wife  is  told  in  the  Latin  Vita  Coemgeni 
(Plummer’s  Vitae  Sanctorum  Hiberniae,  1.  250  ff.).  Colman,  the  son  of  Carbre, 
finding  his  first  wife  incompatible,  put  her  away  and  took  another.  But  the  rejected 
woman  was  powerful  in  magicis  artibus,  and  sang  spells  which  destroyed  all  the  chil- 
dren of  her  successor.  At  last  one  of  them  (Faelan)  was  saved  by  a miracle  of 
St.  Coemgen.  The  way  in  which  different  magic  arts  were  combined  in  these  dan- 
gerous women  of  poetry  is  shown  again  by  the  tale  of  Dreco  (Druidess  and  female 
poet),  who  prepared  a poisonous  liquor  which  killed  the  twenty-four  sons  of  Fergus 
Redside.  See  the  Dindsenchas  of  Nemthenn,  Revue  Celtique,  16.  34. 

102  Revue  Celtique,  16.  306 ; and  compare  Gwynn’s  Metrical  Dindsenchas, 

2.  66  ff.  103  See  pp.  108  ff.,  above.  104  See  p.  120,  above. 

105  Compare  Revue  Celtique,  22.  294. 

106  At  this  point  Arabic  literature  again  furnishes  interesting  parallels.  Cf.  Gold- 
ziher’s  remarks  on  the  use  of  the  Hija’  as  an  ‘Element  des  Krieges’  (Abhandlungen 
zur  Arabischen  Philologie,  p.  36). 


122 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


of  the  Second  Battle  of  Moytura,  for  example,  when  the 
leaders  of  all  the  crafts  are  asked  in  turn  what  help  they  can 
give  against  the  Fomorian  enemies,  the  file  promises,  on 
behalf  of  his  fellow-poets,  to  make  a gldrn  dichenn  which 
will  satirize  them  and  shame  them  and  take  away  their 
resistance.107  And  in  the  Dindsenehas  of  Carman,  hostile 
enchanters  appear  in  open  opposition.108  Carman  and  her 
sons,  according  to  the  story,  came  from  Athens,  and  she 
ruined  the  land  with  spells  and  songs  and  incantations  while 
the  sons  destroyed  by  plundering  and  dishonesty.  But 
the  Tuatha  De  Danann  sent  Ai  of  their  poets  and  Cridenbel 
of  their  satirists  and  Lugli  Laebach  of  their  druids  and 
Be  Cuille  of  their  witches  to  sing  upon  them,  and  the  men 
were  driven  out,  and  Carman  held  as  a prisoner  behind  them. 
The  joint  action  of  enchanters  seems  also  to  be  referred  to 
in  the  Dindsenehas  of  Laigen,  which  says  that  the  druids 
of  Ireland  nearly  exterminated  by  their  songs  the  tribe  of  the 
Gail  eoin. 109 

In  the  light  of  so  many  accounts  of  maledictive  work  of 
poets  it  will  not  appear  strange  that  Cormac  thought  the 
‘poison  of  satire’  to  be  one  element  in  the  composite  of  file, 
or  that  Ferchertne  and  Nede,  in  a highly  technical  ‘ Colloquy  ’ 
on  the  poets’  profession,  several  times  refer  to  satire  among 
its  characteristic  features.110  Nor  is  it  to  be  wondered  at 
that  the  poets  as  a class  came  to  be  greatly  feared.  In 
some  verses  ascribed  to  St.  Columba  it  is  written,  “Blessed 
is  he  who  is  praised;  woe  to  him  who  is  satirized  !”  And 
again,  “Woe  to  the  land  that  is  satirized  !”  111  And  Fer- 
chertne, in  an  interesting  and  typically  Irish  elaboration 
of  the  familiar  list  of  signs  before  judgment,  predicts,  among 
other  calamities,  that  “every  man  will  buy  a lampooner  to 
lampoon  on  his  behalf.”  112  It  was  a general  belief,  some- 
times explained  by  reference  to  the  sacredness  of  the  poet's 
person,  that  no  request  of  his  should  ever  be  denied, 
and  there  was  undoubtedly  a strong  feeling  that  poets  were 
entitled  to  be  rewarded  for  their  work.  But  the  real  motive 

107  Revue  Celtique,  12.  91.  108  Ibid.  15.  311.  109  Ibid.  15.  299. 

110  The  Colloquy  of  the  Two  Sages  (Agallam  in  da  Suaradh),  edited  and  trans- 
lated by  Stokes,  Revue  Celtique,  26.  23  ff. 

111  Revue  Celtique,  20.  44.  112  See  the  Colloquy,  Revue  Celtique,  26.  40. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


123 


for  yielding  to  their  exactions  seems  often  to  have  been  the 
fear  of  their  attacks,  whether  in  maledictive  verse  or  in  some 
other  form  of  magic  persecution.  And  that  they  had  other 
means  than  the  poetic  of  enforcing  their  demands  is  suggested 
by  Cormac’s  description  of  the  briamon  smetrach,113  an  op- 
eration which  they  performed  on  a man  who  refused  them 
aught.  They  ground  his  ear-lobe  between  their  fingers 
until  he  died.  The  supernatural  power  of  the  poets  was  even 
conceived  as  lasting  beyond  their  own  lives ; and  it  is  related 
of  Cuan  O’Lothchain,  a famous  poet  who  was  murdered  in 
1024,  that  his  murderers  became  putrid  in  a single  hour. 
“That,”  the  annalist  says,  “was  the  miracle  of  a poet !”  114 

As  a result  of  the  terror  they  inspired,  the  poets  commonly 
got  what  they  asked  for,  even  from  the  boldest  of  saga 
heroes.  Thus  Cridenbel  the  satirist  regularly  obtained  on 
demand  the  best  bits  of  the  Dagda’s  supper,  though  the 
Dagda’s  health  was  the  worse  for  it ; and  it  was  only  by  a 
trick  that  the  importunate  sorcerer  was  disposed  of.115  So 
also  Lugaid  the  king,  when  solicited  by  Ban-bretnach, 
the  woman-satirist  of  the  Britons,  complied  with  her  de- 
mand and  lay  with  her,  and  became  the  father  of  Conall 
Core ; 116  and  it  is  related  of  a certain  MacSweeney  that, 
when  unable  to  remove  a ring  which  a poet  had  asked  for, 
he  hacked  off  finger  and  all  rather  than  not  grant  the  re- 
quest.117 Of  Leborcham,  the  nurse  of  Deirdriu,  it  is  said 
that  she  was  a woman-satirist  and  no  one  dared  refuse  her 
aught ; 118  and  of  MacConglinne,  who  was  great  at  both 
eulogy  and  satire,  that  he  was  called  AnSra  (the  negative 
of  era,  ‘denial’)  because  there  was  no  denial  of  his  requests.119 

Even  the  Christian  saints,  it  would  appear,  were  not 
exempted  from  such  demands  or  by  any  means  superior 
to  the  fear  of  them.  For  when  St.  Columba  was  cutting 
wood  for  the  church  of  Doire,  certain  poets  came  to  him  to 
seek  a boon.  He  told  them  he  had  no  gift  for  them  there, 
but  that  if  they  would  come  home  with  him  they  should  re- 

113  See  Cormac’s  Glossary,  under  bri;  also  Revue  Celtique,  26.  55. 

114  See  Annals  of  Ulster,  ed.  B.  MacCarthy  (Rolls  Series),  under  the  year  1024. 

116  See  the  Second  Battle  of  Moytura,  Revue  Celtique,  12.  65. 

116  See  the  Coir  Anmann,  under  Conall  Core  (Irische  Texte,  3.310). 

U7  See  the  Publications  of  the  Ossianic  Society,  3.  297. 

118  Irische  Texte,  1.  71.  119  Aislinge  Meic  Conglinne,  ed.  Kuno  Meyer,  p.  43. 


124 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


ceive  one.  They  replied  that  if  he  did  not  give  the  gift  then 
and  there  they  would  satirize  him ; and  Columba  was  seized 
with  such  shame  at  this  threat  that  smoke  rose  from  his 
forehead  and  he  sweated  exceedingly.  He  put  up  his  hand 
to  wipe  away  the  sweat,  and  it  became  a talent  of  gold  in 
his  palm,  and  he  gave  the  talent  to  the  poets.  “Thus,” 
the  narrator  concludes,  “did  God  save  the  honor  of  Columb- 
cille.”  120  In  a story  of  similar  purport  the  honor  of  St. 
Patrick  is  saved  by  the  miraculous  provision  of  food  for  a 
company  of  minstrels  or  jugglers ; but  in  this  instance  the 
petitioners,  after  receiving  their  boon,  are  swallowed  up  by 
the  earth  in  punishment  for  their  insolence.121  Vengeance 
of  like  character  is  visited  on  three  poets  who  threaten  to 
defame  St.  Laisren ; 122  and,  in  general,  when  the  satirists 
confront  the  saints,  their  sorcery  is  forced  to  succumb  to 
a higher  power. 

The  community  as  a whole  also  sometimes  found  means, 
according  to  the  historians,  of  resisting  the  demands  of  the 
poets,  and  Geoffrey  Keating  reports  traditions  of  at  least 
three  banishments  of  the  order.123  On  the  first  occasion, 
in  the  time  of  King  Conchobar  of  Ulster,  when  the  poets 
were  about  to  set  out  for  Alba,  they  were  taken  under  pro- 
tection by  Cucliulainn  and  retained  by  him  for  seven  years. 
On  their  second  banishment  they  were  retained  by  Fiachna 
mac  Baedan,  and  on  their  third  by  Maelcobha  mac  Deamain, 
both  also  kings  of  Ulster.  A fourth  attempt  to  expel  them 
from  the  country  was  made  by  King  Aed  mac  Ainmiri  at 
the  celebrated  assembly  of  Drumceat.  But  St.  Columba 
intervened  on  the  poets’  behalf  and  arranged  that  they  should 
be  allowed  to  remain,  though  with  their  numbers  reduced. 
His  action,  Keating  observes,  is  commemorated  in  the  stanza  : 

The  poets  were  saved  by  this  means, 

Through  Colum  of  the  fair  law ; 

120  See  O’Donnell’s  Life  of  Columbcille,  edited  by  R.  Henebry,  Zeitschrift  fur 
Celtisehe  Pliilologie,  4.  296-298.  The  same  life  says  later  (ibid.  5.  42)  that  Columb- 
cille was  weakly  indulgent  in  rewarding  poets  and  rhymers. 

121  Compare  Stokes,  the  Tripartite  Life  of  St.  Patrick,  pp.  lx.,  204. 

122  See  De  Smedt  and  Backer,  Acta  Sanctorum  Hibernise  (1888),  col.  796. 
Other  instances  of  relations  between  the  satirists  and  the  saints  are  noted  by  Plum- 
mer, Vitae  Sanctorum  Hiberniae,  1.  ciii. 

123  See  Keating's  Forus  Feasa  air  Eirinn,  Irish  Text  Society  edition,  3.  78  ff. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


125 


A poet  for  each  district  is  no  heavy  charge, — 

That  is  what  Colum  ordained. 

The  same  abuses  of  the  poets  which  stirred  up  hostile 
legislation  called  forth  much  unfavorable  comment  in  Irish 
literature,  and  in  one  case  they  produced  a counterblast 
which  ranks  among  the  best  pieces  of  humorous  writing 
in  Middle  Irish.  This  is  the  Imtheacht  na  Tromdhaimhe 
(Proceedings  of  the  Great  Bardic  Institution),  which  has 
been  several  times  referred  to.124  The  account  of  Senchan 
and  the  mice,  already  quoted  from  it,  shows  the  spirit  of 
extravagant  burlesque  which  pervades  the  whole,  and  which 
can  hardly  be  reproduced  in  a condensed  summary  of  the 
story.  The  chief  episodes  are  as  follows : The  bards, 
under  Senchan,  their  newly  elected  chief,  decided  to  make 
a professional  visit  to  Guaire,  the  king  of  Connaught, 
who  had  never  been  satirized  for  lack  of  hospitality ; and 
out  of  special  consideration  for  him  they  took  with  them 
only  thrice  fifty  poets,  thrice  fifty  students,  thrice  fifty 
hounds,  thrice  fifty  kinswomen,  and  thrice  nine  of  each 
class  of  artificers.  Guaire  greeted  them  all  cordially,  only 
regretting  that  he  could  not  give  a personal  welcome  to  each 
member  of  the  large  company ; and  they  were  quartered  in 
a great  mansion  and  told  to  ask  for  whatever  they  might 
desire.  “It  was,  however,  a great  difficulty  to  procure  all 
things  for  them ; for  it  was  requisite  to  give  to  each  of  them  his 
meals  apart  and  a separate  bed ; and  they  went  to  bed  not  any 
night  without  wanting  something,  and  they  arose  not  a day 
without  some  of  them  having  longing  desires  for  some  things 
that  were  extraordinary,  wonderful,  and  rare,  and  difficult 
of  procurement.  It  was  a task  for  all  the  men  of  Ireland  to 
find  that  which  was  longed  for,  and  unless  the  person  who 
desired  it  obtained  it  within  twenty-four  hours,  it  was  use- 
less ever  after  to  procure  it  for  him.”  Muireann,  the  wife 
of  Dalian  Forgail,  on  the  very  first  night  moaned  aloud  and 
declared  that  she  should  die  unless  she  could  have  “a  bowl 
of  the  ale  of  sweet  milk,  with  the  marrow  of  the  ankle-bone 
of  a wild  hog ; a pet  cuckoo  on  an  ivy  tree  between  the  two 
Christmases;  her  full  load  on  her  back,  with  a girdle  of 


m See  p.  96,  above. 


12G 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


yellow  lard  of  an  exceeding  white  boar  about  her;  and  to 
be  mounted  on  a steed  with  a brown  mane,  and  its  four 
legs  exceedingly  white  ; a garment  of  the  spider’s  web  around 
her,  and  she  humming  a tune  as  she  proceeded  to  Durlus.” 
Another  woman  of  the  company  desired  a skirt  full  of  black- 
berries in  January,  and  also  that  Guaire’s  people  might  all 
be  stricken  down  with  disease.  For  the  fulfillment  of 
these  and  other  equally  preposterous  demands  Guaire 
sought  the  aid  of  Marban,  his  brother,  the  holy  hermit ; 
and  by  miracles  of  heaven  the  king’s  honor  was  saved,  like 
that  of  the  saints  in  the  stories  previously  related. 

When  all  the  desires  of  the  company  had  been  fulfilled, 
they  sat  down  to  a great  feast.  Senchan,  however,  took 
whimsical  offence  at  the  hearty  eating  of  the  servants,  and 
refused  all  food.  Guaire  in  distress  sent  a favourite  steward 
to  prepare  a wild  goose  and  serve  it  to  Senchan  with  special 
care.  But  Senchan  refused  it  because  the  young  man’s 
grandfather  was  chip-nailed.  And  when  a favourite  damsel 
of  Guaire’s  household  was  sent,  Senchan  would  not  take 
food  from  her  hands  because  her  grandmother  had  once 
pointed  out  the  road  to  lepers.  At  last,  after  several  days’ 
abstinence,  Senchan  consented  to  eat  a hen’s  egg,  but  the 
mice  got  at  it,  with  results  that  have  already  been  described. 
When  Senchan  was  saved  by  St.  Kieran  from  the  clutches 
of  Irusan,  the  great  cat,  he  complained  at  his  release,  for  he 
would  rather  by  his  death  have  given  occasion  for  the  sati- 
rizing of  Guaire. 

Marban,  in  the  meantime,  though  a saintly  hermit,  had 
lost  all  patience  with  the  unreasonable  demands  of  the 
poets,  and  determined  to  obtain  some  redress.  Accordingly 
he  made  his  way  to  their  mansion,  declared  that  he  was  con- 
nected with  poetry  through  the  grandmother  of  his  servant ’s 
wife,  who  was  descended  from  poets,  and  claimed  his  choice 
of  music  from  the  company.  Then  he  demanded  the  per- 
formance of  a crondn  (a  low  humming  tune)  till  he  should 
declare  that  he  had  enough.  He  would  not  be  satisfied 
with  the  ordinary  crondn , but  insisted  on  the  bass  or  gut- 
tural crondn,  in  the  hope  that  they  wTould  break  their  heads, 
feet,  and  necks,  and  that  their  breathing  would  be  the  sooner 
exhausted.  One  company  of  singers  after  another  was  worn 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


127 


out  by  the  performance.  Efforts  were  made  to  put  off 
Marban  with  riddle  contests,  but  he  always  defeated  his 
antagonists  in  questions,  and  then  reverted  to  his  first 
demand  — “Perform  as  much  crondn  as  we  desire.”  At 
last,  when  no  one  else  could  respond,  Senchan  himself  had 
to  perform,  and  he  made  such  exertions  at  the  guttural 
crondn  that  his  eye  burst  out  upon  his  cheek.  Marban  was 
satisfied  with  this  revenge,  and  restored  the  eye  to  its  place. 
Then  he  laid  bonds  upon  the  bards  to  obtain  for  him  the 
saga  of  the  Cattle-Spoil  of  Cooley ; and  the  rest  of  the 
story  is  taken  up  with  their  adventures  in  discharge  of  the 
obligation. 

In  this  way  the  Imtheacht  na  Tromdhaimhe  is  brought 
into  connection  with  the  old  saga-cycle.  But  it  is  really  a 
comparatively  late  work,125  and  in  effect,  as  has  already  been 
said,  a satire  on  the  satirists.  Satire  in  the  loose  or  primi- 
tive sense  furnished  material  for  satire  in  the  stricter  defi- 
nition of  the  word.  It  would  not  be  fair  to  say  that  the  one 
passed  over  into  the  other,  and  no  such  suggestion  is  here 
intended.  The  Imtheacht  is  cited  rather  as  a significant 
piece  of  testimony  to  the  extensive  development  of  the  old 
satire  of  malediction. 

It  would  be  easy  to  multiply  references  to  satire  from  all 
branches  of  early  Irish  literature,  but  the  passages  which 
have  been  discussed  illustrate  the  more  important  aspects 
of  the  subject.  And  it  is  beyond  the  compass  of  the  pres- 
ent study  to  trace  the  history  of  satire  through  Irish  liter- 
ature of  the  modern  period.  Suffice  it  to  say,  of  this  later 
development,  that  although  real  satire,  as  opposed  to  in- 
cantational  verse,  increases  as  time  goes  on,  the  old  concep- 
tion of  the  destructive  satirist,  the  poet  with  superior  power, 
whom  it  is  dangerous  to  displease,  has  never  disappeared 
among  the  Gaels  of  either  Ireland  or  Scotland.126  But  the 

125  The  text  is  late  Middle  Irish.  In  some  parts  old  material  is  made  use  of. 
Compare,  for  example,  the  story  of  the  leper,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  Imtheacht, 
with  the  similar  narrative  in  Cormac’s  Glossary,  under  Prull. 

126  An  extended  study  of  modern  Irish  satire  is  greatly  to  be  desired.  Interesting 
illustrations  both  of  real  literary  satire  and  of  the  incantational  type  are  referred  to 
in  O’Donovan’s  introduction  to  O’Daly’s  Satire  on  the  Tribes  of  Ireland  (Dublin. 
1864).  The  Pairliament  Chloinne  Thomais,  edited  by  Stern  in  the  Zeitschrift 
fur  Celtische  Philologie,  6.  541  ff.,  may  also  be  mentioned  as  a representative  sa- 


128 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


village  rhymester  of  to-day,  though  he  may,  like  Chaucer’s 
Somonour,  have 

In  daunger  ...  at  his  owene  gyse 

The  yonge  girles  of  the  diocyse, 

is  far  less  important  in  power  or  influence  than  the  magi- 
cian-poet of  saga  times.  He  represents,  so  far  as  one  can 
judge,  the  expiration  of  a tradition  or  custom  which  in 
mediaeval  Ireland  was  still  vigorous  and  productive  of  re- 
sults in  literary  development. 

For  the  practices  of  the  old  Irish  satirists  have,  in  addition 
to  their  merely  curious  interest,  a wider  bearing  on  literary 
history.  Attention  has  already  been  called  127  to  their  con- 
nection with  the  development  of  the  ‘flyting,’  or  verse  debate, 
a matter  which  cannot  further  be  treated  at  this  time.  And 
their  obvious  relation  to  the  beginnings  of  ordinary  satire 
also  deserves  more  consideration  than  it  has  received  from 
students  of  the  subject.128  One  might  hesitate  just  now, 
when  fashion  among  critics  and  scholars  is  turning  against 
Liedertheorien  and  doctrines  of  popular  origin,  to  lay  stress 
upon  such  a development.  The  folklorists  and  ballad  col- 
lectors are  charged,  not  unjustly,  with  many  extrava- 
gances : with  ill-judged  enthusiasm  for  poor  productions, 
just  because  they  are  popular ; with  wild  speculation  about 
popular  composition;  and  with  a kind  of  easy-going  satis- 
faction in  the  collection  of  popular  parallels  as  if  they  ex- 


tirical  document  of  much  interest.  For  the  survival  of  destructive  or  incantational 
satire  there  is  plenty  of  evidence  in  the  editions  of  the  modern  Irish  poets.  See, 
for  example,  in  addition  to  the  references  already  given  on  rat-rhyming  (p.  96,  above), 
Hardiman’s  Irish  Minstrelsy  (1831),  2.  358,  n. ; O'Daly’s  Poets  and  Poetry  of 
Munster  (Second  Series,  1860),  p.  218,  n. ; Dinneen’s  edition  of  Egan  O'Rahilly 
(Publication  of  the  Irish  Text  Society),  pp.  xxxi.  if. ; Hyde’s  edition  of  Raftery, 
Abhrain  Ata  Leagtha  ar  an  Reachtuire  (1903),  pp.  15  ff. ; Lady  Gregory,  Poets 
and  Dreamers  (1903),  pp.  8 ff. ; and  with  special  reference  to  Scotland,  Zeit- 
schrift  fur  Celtische  Philologie,  2.  28.  Hyde  points  out  that  even  the  praise  of  the 
poets  is  feared,  and  it  is  believed  that  no  man  who  has  had  a song  made  about  him 
will  live  long.  127  See  p.  117,  above. 

m This  relation,  which  has  been  clearly  involved  in  most  of  the  preceding  dis- 
cussion, has  doubtlessly  been  observed  by  nearly  all  scholars  who  are  familiar  with 
Celtic  literature,  but  due  account  has  not  been  taken  of  it  in  general  discussions  of 
satire.  That  it  has  not  escaped  the  keen  vision  of  Professors  Kittredge  and 
Gummere,  in  their  investigations  of  popular  poetry,  is  apparent  from  a note  in 
Gummere’s  Old  English  Ballads  (1894),  p.  xxxiv. 


FRED  NORRIS  ROBINSON 


129 


plained  the  mature  products  of  art.  Nevertheless,  in  spite 
of  its  peccant  humours,  the  study  of  folk  literature  has 
yielded  solid  results,  and  the  “ thrice-battered  Grimm,” 
as  Mr.  Gummere  once  called  him,  is  not  to  be  abjured  as 
a Philistine  god.  Popular  or  communal  composition,  in 
some  such  reasonable  sense  as  Mr.  Gummere  also  has  most 
fully  defined  and  illustrated,  must  be  recognized  as  a signifi- 
cant fact  in  the  history  of  poetry.  Popular  material,  in 
various  forms  of  mythology  and  tradition,  has  entered  into 
the  highest  products  of  art,  and  the  understanding  of  it  is 
often  essential  to  the  comprehension  of  Chaucer  or  Shake- 
speare or  Goethe.  In  a word,  the  historian  of  poetry  will 
never  again  be  at  liberty  to  disregard  the  popular  basis  of 
the  poetry  of  art. 

Now  satire,  which  belongs  conspicuously  to  the  poetry  of 
art,  doubtless  owes  little,  in  its  developed  phases,  to  such 
simple  products  as  the  quatrains  of  Nede  and  Coirpre.  Yet 
it  is  unquestionably  a very  old  poetic  form,  originating  in 
early  stages  of  society  and  having  definite  relations  with  vari- 
ous kinds  of  popular  verse.  On  one  side  a source  has  been 
found  for  it  in  the  rude,  rustic  songs  of  mockery  which  exist 
among  many  peoples.129  In  another  aspect  its  connection 
with  gnomic  writing  is  well  recognized  ; and  one  scholar  has 
gone  so  far,  in  discussing  old  Germanic  poetry,130  as  to  assume 
that  people  who  possessed  a gnomic  literature  must  also  have 
had  satire.  The  close  association  of  these  two  types  could 
also  be  admirably  illustrated  from  Irish  literature,  which 
furnishes,  in  such  collections  of  proverbial  morality  as  the 
ancient  Instructions  of  Cormac,  many  passages  of  well- 
developed  satire.131  But  a still  more  intimate  and  essential 
relation  seems  to  exist  between  satire  and  the  kind  of  verse 
that  has  been  described  in  this  paper.  And  it  is  interesting 
to  find  that  an  observation  by  M.  Brunetiere,  whom  nobody 


129  Such,  for  example,  as  the  Etruscan  fescennina,  and  the  Germanic  Schnader- 
hiipfl.  Compare  Gummere,  Beginnings  of  Poetry,  pp.  400  ff. ; Hirt,  Die  Indo- 
germanen,  2.  728;  and  Erich  Schmidt,  Anfiinge  der  Literatur  (Kultur  der  Gegen- 
wart),  pp.  19  ff. 

130  Kogel,  in  Paul’s  Grundriss  der  Germanischen  Philologie,  2d  ed.,  2.  48. 

131  The  Instructions  of  King  Cormac  Mac  Airt  ( Tecosca  Cormaic ) have  been 
edited  by  Kuno  Meyer  in  the  Todd  Lecture  Series  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy, 
vol.  15  (Dublin,  1909). 


130 


SATIRISTS  AND  ENCHANTERS 


will  accuse  of  undue  partiality  for  popular  literature,  points 
towards  its  recognition.  He  concludes  an  admirable  survey  of 
the  general  history  of  satire  with  the  following  definition  : 132 
“Opposer,  en  nous  moquant  d’eux,  ou  en  les  invectivant, — 
c’est  affaire  de  temperament,  — notre  maniere  de  penser, 
de  sentir,  ou  de  voir  a ceux  qui  ne  voient,  ni  ne  pensent,  ni 
ne  sentent  coniine  nous,  tel  est,  on  l’a  pu  voir,  le  trait  essen- 
tiel  et  commun  qui  relie  les  unes  aux  autres  toutes  les  formes 
de  la  satire.  Le  poete  Archiloque,  ayant  sur  la  fille  de 
Lycambe  des  vues  que  Lycambe  n’approuvait  point,  il  les 
exprima  d’une  fagon  si  virulente  que  Lycambe,  et  meme 
sa  fille,  dit  la  legende,  s’en  pendirent.  Voila  le  fond  de 
toute  satire.”  The  French  critic,  though  chiefly  concerned 
in  his  essay  with  the  more  elaborate  and  literary  forms  of 
satire,  yet  finds  its  essential  nature  to  be  personal  invective. 
If  his  observation  is  sound,  and  it  is  certainly  not  unreason- 
able, the  old  Irish  satirists  were  in  the  main  line  of  develop- 
ment, though  very  far  up  the  line;  and  the  evidence  with 
regard  to  them  shows  that  the  poetry  of  enchantment  must 
also  be  included  in  the  reckoning.  For  in  the  days  of  the 
magician-poet  invective,  mockery,  and  malediction  are  seen 
to  have  been  almost  inseparably  bound  together. 

132  See  La  Grande  Encyclopedic,  under  Satire. 


Cambridge, 

February  14,  1911. 


ST.  PETER  AND  THE  MINSTREL 

(from  the  old  french) 

Edward  Stevens  Sheldon 

Harvard  University 

The  fabliau  1 of  which  a nearly  complete  translation  fol- 
lows may  serve  to  illustrate  the  materialistic  crudity  of  some 
mediaeval  conceptions  of  the  life  to  come  as  well  as  a familiarly 
irreverent  tone  equally  natural  under  the  circumstances.2 
Neither  the  idea  that  this  or  that  class  of  men  is  excluded 
from  hell 3 nor  the  gambling  for  souls  should  be  assumed  to 
be  confined  to  this  minstrel’s  production  and  not  elsewhere 
found.4  But  they  occur  here  combined  in  a story  which  is 
told  in  a not  uninteresting  way,  and  moreover  the  gambling 
scenes  — gambling  is  at  first  treated  in  this  fabliau  as  a 
vice  — offer  a special  interest,  partly  because  of  such  light 
as  they  throw  on  the  old  games  with  dice,  partly  because 
of  the  very  difficulties  of  comprehension  for  the  modern 
reader.5 6 

The  translation  is  intended  to  be  a pretty  close  and  line- 


1 In  Montaiglon  and  Raynaud’s  Recueil  general  et  complet  des  fabliaux,  5.  65-79. 

2 Cf.  Bedier,  Les  Fabliaux,  p.  317  (2d  ed.). 

3 For  a different  remark  concerning  minstrels  in  bell  see  Aucassin  et  Nicolette. 
6.  25  ff.  (ed.  of  Sucbier),  with  the  words  (line  39),  “et  si  i [into  hell]  vont  harpeor 
et  jogleor,”  etc. 

4 See  W.  Hertz’s  notes  on  the  translation  of  this  fabliau  into  German  in  his  Spiel- 

mannsbuch. 

6 I have  derived  much  help  from  the  excellent  study  by  Franz  Semrau  (Wiirfel 
und  Wiirfelspiel  im  alten  Frankreich,  23.  Heft  of  the  Beihefte  zur  Zeitschrift  fur 
romanische  Philologie,  Halle,  1910),  whose  explanations  of  the  games  and  the 
passages  concerned  I have,  for  the  most  part,  accepted.  My  notes  on  vv.  177,  183, 
191,  202,  208,  212,  231,  and  probably  168,  are  all  based  on  his  work  even  where  I 
am  inclined  to  disagree  with  him  (see  my  note  on  vv.  177,  208) ; and  I have  ac- 
cepted his  changes  in  punctuation  or  assignment  of  speeches  in  vv.  181,  308,  319, 
322.  He  has  printed  with  notes  vv.  3-8,  27,  28,  134-251,  291-330,  353-355,  370- 
378;  in  all  somewhat  less  than  half  of  the  whole. 

131 


132 


ST.  PETER  AND  THE  MINSTREL 


for-line  translation,  in  approximately  the  tone  and  the  metre 
of  the  original.  To  do  this  and  also  to  imitate  the  rhyme 
wonld  have  been  impossible  for  me,  and  I have  accordingly 
avoided  rhyme  altogether.  That  beside  at  least  one  rather 
coarse  colloquialism  I have  occasionally  used  a word  or 
a phrase  which  is  not  modern  and  colloquial  may  be  harder 
to  justify ; but  it  can  be  pleaded  in  excuse  that  the  original 
is  some  six  centuries  old,  and  that  a translator  may  be  al- 
lowed to  let  his  rendering  at  least  hint  at  such  age  now  and 
then.  The  verses  are  numbered  so  as  to  correspond  to  those 
of  the  original.  It  will  be  seen  that  a few  lines  have  been 
omitted ; some  of  these  can  hardly  have  been  in  the  fabliau 
as  originally  composed,  and  the  others  are  unimportant.6 


5 

There  was  a minstrel  once  at  Sens 

Who  truly  was  of  low  estate ; 

10 

His  costume  was  but  seldom  whole ; 

I know  not  by  what  name  he  went ; 

But  oft  he  lost  his  all  at  dice ; 

He  often  was  without  his  fiddle, 
Barelegged  and  without  a coat. 

22 

So  that  against  the  chilly  wind 

He  often  had  nought  but  a shirt. 

Do  not  suppose  I’m  telling  lies. 

He  had  not  often  shoes  to  wear.  . . . 

The  tavern  was  his  chief  resort, 

27 

The  brothel  next  he  visited ; 

Those  places  tempted  him  the  most.  . . 
He  loved  dice  and  the  tavern  much. 

31 

And  all  his  earnings  there  he  spent.  . . . 
With  a green  chaplet  on  his  head 

35 

He  would  each  day  were  holiday ; 

He  greatly  longed  for  Sunday’s  coming, 
He  ne’er  liked  noisy  quarrelling. 

In  foolish  living  still  kept  on. 

40 

Now  you  shall  hear  what  happed  to  him. 

In  foolish  sins  he  spent  his  time ; 

When  he  had  lived  out  all  his  life 

He  had  to  die  and  pass  beyond. 

A devil,  who  can  never  cease 

From  tricking  and  attacking  men. 

Came  to  the  corpse  to  get  the  soul. 

6 An  earlier  English  translation  is  in  Bruce- Whyte’s  Histoire  des  langues  romanes 
(1841),  3.  122  ft.  It  is  very  free  and  contains  in  all  only  167  lines,  omitting  much 
of  the  original. 


45 

50 

55 

60 

65 

70 

75 

80 

85 

90 


EDWARD  STEVENS  SHELDON 


133 


A month  he  had  been  outside  hell 
And  not  one  soul  as  yet  had  caught. 

So  when  he  saw  this  minstrel  die 
He  ran  at  once  to  seize  the  soul ; 

And  since  the  minstrel  died  in  sin 
No  opposition  there  he  found. 

Forthwith  he  took  him  on  his  back, 

And  ran  with  speed  towards  hell  again. 
His  comrades  roaming  through  the  land 
Had  captured  many  a human  soul ; 

The  one  brings  with  him  warriors’  souls, 
Another  priests,  still  others  thieves, 

And  monks,  and  abbots,  bishops  too. 
And  knights,  and  many  sorts  of  men. 
Who  all  had  been  in  mortal  sin, 

And  so  were  taken  at  the  end. 

These  devils  now  return  to  hell 
And  meet  their  master  Lucifer. 

When  he  sees  them  thus  laden  come, 
“My  faith,”  says  he,  “I  welcome  you, 
You’ve  not  been  idling  all  this  time. 
These  souls  shall  surely  ill  lodge  here.” 
And  in  the  cauldron  they  were  put. 
“But,  sirs,”  says  he,  “it  seems  to  me. 
By  all  that  I thus  far  have  seen, 

You  have  not  all  come  back  again.” 
“Yes,  Sire,  we  have,  save  one  alone, 

A wretched  one,  a luckless  devil. 

Who  has  no  skill  to  capture  souls, 

And  knows  not  how  men  to  deceive.” 

Just  then  they  see  this  devil  coming 
And  bringing  leisurely  enough 
Upon  his  back  the  minstrel  man. 

Who  was  indeed  in  evil  case. 

All  naked  he  has  entered  hell ; 

And  he  has  thrown  the  minstrel  down. 
The  master  spoke,  addressed  him  thus : 
“Vassal,”  he  said,  “attend  to  me; 

Were  you  a rogue,  traitor,  or  thief?” 
“Not  so,”  says  he,  “a  minstrel  I. 

With  me  I bring  the  havings  all 
My  body  used  to  own  on  earth. 

My  body  suffered  many  a chill, 

And  many  a hard  word  had  to  bear ; 
Now  I am  lodged  in  here  in  hell. 

And  I will  sing,  if  that’s  your  wish.” 
“With  singing  we  have  nought  to  do. 
You  must  live  here  in  other  wise ; 


134 

95 

100 

105 

110 

115 

120 

125 

130 

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ST.  PETER  AND  THE  MINSTREL 


But  since  I see  you  are  so  bare 
And  are  so  very  poorly  clad, 

Under  the  cauldron  keep  the  fire.” 

“By  St.  Peter,  with  all  my  heart, 

For  keeping  warm  is  good  for  me.” 

Then  down  he  sat  beside  the  hearth. 

And  tends  the  fire  quite  at  his  ease. 

And  warms  up  just  as  suits  him  best. 

One  day  it  chanced  the  imps  of  hell 
Had  gathered  all  together  there ; 

They  sallied  out  from  hell  to  catch 
The  souls  of  men  o’er  all  the  earth. 

Their  master  came  this  minstrel  near. 

Who  kept  the  fire  both  night  and  day : 
“Minstrel,”  says  he,  “now  list  to  me. 

I trust  to  you  my  people  all ; 

Guard  well  these  souls,  or  lose  your  eyes, 
For  I should  put  your  eyes  both  out 
Were  you  to  lose  but  one  of  them ; 

And  I should  hang  you  by  the  neck.” 

“My  lord,”  said  he,  “fear  not  to  go; 

I’ll  guard  them  all  most  loyally. 

The  best  I possibly  can  do, 

All  your  souls  I’ll  return  to  you.” 

“On  that  I trust  them  all  to  you; 

But  know  this  well,  be  sure  of  it. 

If  you  should  lose  a single  one 
You’d  surely  be  devoured  alive. 

But  know  this  too,  I do  not  lie, 

When  we  come  back,  our  work  all  done, 

I’ll  see  that  you  shall  well  be  served 
With  some  fat  monk  done  to  a turn 
With  gravy  made  of  usurer, 

Or  maybe  with  whoremonger  sauce.” 

So  forth  they  go  ; he  stays  behind 
And  in  good  earnest  stirs  the  fire. 

Now  I will  tell  how  then  he  fared, 

This  minstrel  thus  confined  in  hell, 

And  how  St.  Peter  managed  things. 

Straight  into  hell  the  saint  came  in, 

And  well  indeed  was  he  attired, 

His  beard  was  black,  moustaches  curled. 

He  all  alone  came  into  hell. 

And  brought  a dice  board  and  three  dice ; 
Beside  the  minstrel  sat  him  down 
Most  quietly  and  spoke  to  him  : 

“My  friend,”  quoth  he,  “wish  you  to  play  ? 
See  what  a board  for  gambling  on  ! 


EDWARD  STEVENS  SHELDON 


135 


And  I’ve  three  dice  of  full  size  all. 

140  You  may  well  win  in  play  with  me 

Good  silver  coins  here  privately.” 

And  then  he  lets  him  plainly  see 
The  purse  in  which  the  silver  lies. 

‘But,  sir,”  the  minstrel  answers  him, 

145  “ I swear  by  God,  without  deceit, 

I’ve  nought  i’  th’  world  except  my  shirt. 

Sir,  in  God’s  name,  go  you  away, 

I say  I have  of  money  nought.” 

Replied  the  saint,  “My  fair  sweet  friend, 

150  Put  up  of  these  souls  five  or  six.” 

The  minstrel  said,  “I  should  not  dare, 

For  if  I lost  a single  one 
My  master  would  me  much  maltreat. 

And  he  would  eat  me  up  alive.” 

155  The  answer  came,  “ Who  is  to  tell  ? 

A score  of  souls  will  ne’er  be  missed. 

See  here  the  silver  that’s  so  fine : 

These  pretty  pieces  from  me  win. 

All  newly  minted  too,  you  see. 

160  Now,  twenty  shillings,  that’s  my  stake : 

Put  up  the  worth  of  that  in  souls.” 

And  when  he  saw  so  many  coins 
He  coveted  the  silver  much, 

The  dice  he  took,  he  handled  them, 

165  And  to  the  saint  he  said  straightway  : 

“Now  let  us  play,  and  be  my  risk 
One  soul  each  time  and  only  one.” 

“Oh,  two,”  said  he,  “ that’s  cowardly,7 
And  whoso  wins  shall  add  one  more, 

170  I care  not  which,  blonde  or  brunette  !” 

The  minstrel  said,  “We  are  agreed.” 

And  said  St.  Peter,  “You  begin.” 

“But  first,  before  the  throw,  the  devil ! 

Put  down  the  money  on  the  board.” 

175  “With  all  my  heart,  i’  th’  name  of  God.” 

Then  he  lays  silver  down  for  play. 

They  sat  them  down  to  tremerel ,8 

7 That  is,  the  proposal  of  one  only  is  cowardly. 

8 In  this  game  apparently  one  player  throws  each  time  for  both,  the  one  to  throw 
being,  each  time  after  the  first,  the  player  who  won  last.  Each  time  the  first  throw 
is  for  the  other  player,  and  the  second  one  is  for  the  thrower  himself.  According 
to  vv.  168-169,  Peter,  winning,  gets  two  souls  and  one  more,  making  three.  This 
win  of  three  is  the  next  stake,  but  the  winner  from  now  on  gets  twice  the  stake 
plus  a fixed  number,  in  this  case  three,  each  time ; and  this  number  is  (by  chance 
only?)  the  same  as  the  first  win  of  three.  Cf.  vv.  188,  197-198,  214,  and  my 
notes  there.  This  practically  amounts  to  doubling  the  stakes  (the  previous  win- 


136 


ST.  PETER  AND  THE  MINSTREL 


195 


180 


190 


185 


The  saint  and  he,  close  by  the  fire. 
“Throw  you  for  both,”  St.  Peter  said, 

“ For  you  have  very  skilful  hands.” 

The  minstrel  throws,  as  I believe. 

“My  word,”  the  saint  said,  “I  have  eight. 
If  now  you  next  should  throw  hasart 9 
Three  souls  shall  I get  on  my  side.” 

The  other  throws  trey,  deuce,  and  ace. 
And  said  St.  Peter,  “You  have  lost.” 
“Indeed  I have,  by  St.  Denis  ! 

Let  three  put  down  now  count  for  six.”  10 
And  said  St.  Peter,  “I  consent.” 

Then  he  at  once  has  thrown  and  got 
Twelve  points  at  this  try  with  the  dice ; 11 
“You  owe  me  nine,  now  I’m  in  luck.” 
“’Tis  true,”  said  he,  “I’ve  lost  again. 

If  I risk  more  will  you  accept  ?” 

“Yes,”  said  the  saint,  “upon  my  word.” 
“These  nine  then  first  that  I owe  you 
And  count  twelve  more  whoever  wins.”  12 
“Accursed  he  that  should  refuse.”  13 


nings)  each  time  and  adding  three,  which  is  the  way  Semrau  describes  it,  but  the 
technical  difference  between  his  account  and  that  here  given  (based  on  the  original) 
may  possibly  help  in  explaining  v.  214  and  v.  296  (this  last  verse  he  finds  unclear), 
though  the  game  in  those  two  places  is  not  tremerel;  cf.  my  notes  on  both  verses 
and  that  on  v.  208,  also  v.  218.  Compare  double  or  quits  in  English. 

Thus  Peter  wins  three  the  first  time ; the  second  time  the  stake  is  accordingly 
three,  and  Peter  wins  six  (twice  three)  plus  three  more,  or  nine  in  all;  the  next 
time  he  wins  eighteen  (twice  nine)  plus  three,  or  twenty-one  in  all. 

This  way  of  counting  implies  that  the  previous  winnings  are  ignored,  except  as 
fixing  the  stake,  the  successive  winnings  not  being  added  together  (three  plus  nine 
plus  twenty-one  would  make  thirty-three),  but  the  grand  total  being  given  after 
each  time.  One  might  assume  a third  way  and  say  that  the  immediately  preced- 
ing winnings  are  each  time  added,  and  that  accordingly  Peter  wins  the  second 
time  the  stake  of  three,  plus  his  previous  win  of  three,  plus  the  fixed  number 
three,  and  that  he  wins  the  third  time  the  stake  of  nine,  plus  his  previous  total 
of  nine,  plus  the  fixed  number  three.  But  this  does  not  serve  to  explain  so  well 
v.  296  (where  the  winnings  are  to  be  three  times  the  stake) ; see  my  note  there 
and  that  on  v.  214. 

9 In  this  game  a certain  bad  or  losing  throw,  of  an  unknown  number  of  points. 

10  That  is,  the  stake  is  three,  but  the  winner  will  get  twice  that  number,  or  six. 
The  word  avant  (“put  down”  in  the  translation),  whether  in  the  sense  of  ‘forward,’ 
‘put  forward’  (as  the  stake),  or  in  the  temporal  sense  ‘first,’  ‘beforehand,’  refers  to 
the  stake;  cf.  vv.  196,  214. 

11  This  counts  for  the  saint.  The  throw  counting  for  the  minstrel  is  not  men- 
tioned; it  was  of  course  less. 

12  More  literally:  “let  it  count  ( vaille ) for  twelve  [more]  for  whoever  wins.” 
Cf.  v.  218.  The  “twelve  more”  is  nine  plus  three  in  the  original:  Qu’il  le  fera 
valoir  quarante  (the  stake  is  twenty). 

13  The  rhyme  qui  I’ait  is  suspicious,  repeating  exactly  the  end  of  the  preceding 


EDWARD  STEVENS  SHELDON 


137 


Said  then  the  minstrel,  “Your  throw  now.” 

200  “With  pleasure,”  says  he,  “look  at  that ! 

I see  hasart,  it  seems  to  me  : 14 

You  owe  me  three  plus  ten  plus  eight.”  15 

“See  here,”  said  he,  “now,  by  God’s  head, 

That  ne’er  occurred  at  play  before. 

205  Now,  by  the  faith  you  owe  to  me. 

Are  you  not  using  here  four  dice  ? 

Or  else  your  dice  are  numbered  wrong. 

I want  to  play  now  for  most  points.”  16 
“Friend,  in  the  Holy  Spirit’s  name, 

210  I’ll  gladly  meet  your  every  wish : 

Now  be  it  then  just  as  you  choose. 

Shall  it  be  once  each  time  or  twice  ?”  17 
“Once  be  it,”  says  the  minstrel.  “Now, 

Here  twenty,  winner  twenty  more  !”  18 
215  And  said  St.  Peter,  “Help  me  God  !” 

And  then  he  threw  without  dispute 

verse.  I am  inclined  to  read  lait  in  one  word  instead  of  l’ ait  in  v.  198;  i.e.,  ‘leaves 
undone,’  ‘fails  to  do’  (the  thing  in  question).  This  gives  a suitable  sense.  Pos- 
sibly the  preceding  qui  stands  for  quit  (=  qui  le),  the  l being  lost  before  the 
following  l. 

14  The  last  clause  should  perhaps  go  with  what  follows  rather  than  with  the  pre- 
ceding part  of  this  line. 

15  This  hasart  (v.  201)  counts  for  the  minstrel,  and  he  loses  of  course.  St. 
Peter’s  throw  is  not  mentioned. 

16  A different  game ; the  winner  each  time  is  he  who  gets  the  highest  number 
of  points.  In  the  game  as  seen  in  this  fabliau  each  player  throws  for  himself,  and 
the  stakes,  or  more  exactly  the  winnings,  seem  to  be  doubled  as  before  (this  seems 
not  to  be  Semrau’s  opinion),  and  as  before  the  winner  gets  an  additional  three.  Cf. 
vv.  214  (and  note),  218,  226.  The  peculiar  throw  called  hasart  in  tremerel  does  not 
appear. 

17  That  is,  “shall  each  of  us  have  one  throw  whenever  his  turn  comes,  or  two 
throws  in  immediate  succession?” 

18  Why  twenty  is  not  clear.  We  should  expect  twenty-one  (v.  202).  Below 
(v.  226)  the  saint  claims  forty-three  as  his  winnings.  I explain  this  as  twice  twenty 
plus  three.  The  number  forty-three  seems  to  take  no  account  of  the  twenty-one 
previously  won  at  tremerel;  it  may  be  simply  the  amount  won  this  time,  or  the  pre- 
vious winnings  may  be  ignored  as  in  tremerel  (see  note  on  v.  177.)  The  new  stake, 
indeed,  was  perhaps  not  necessarily  the  same  as  the  total  winnings  just  before; 
all  that  was  necessary  was  probably  that  it  should  be  such  that  if  the  loser  up  to 
this  time  should  now  win  he  would  at  least  be  out  of  debt.  Now  a stake  of  twenty, 
bringing  the  winner  a total  of  forty-three,  would,  if  the  minstrel  wins,  cancel  his  debt 
of  twenty-one  and  give  him  a claim  to  a money  equivalent  of  twenty-two  souls. 
Cf.  v.  208  (note)  and  vv.  218,  226,  also  296,  319,  and  notes  there.  Semrau’s  sug- 
gestion that  twenty  is  taken  instead  of  twenty-one,  as  being  a round  number,  seems 
improbable. 

The  original  has  in  this  line : Ces  .xx  avant  et  .xx.  apres.  As  I take  avant  here 
to  refer  to  the  stake  (see  note  on  v.  188),  so  I take  apres  to  refer  to  what  follows 
the  throw;  that  is,  the  winnings.  As  to  counting  “twenty  more,”  cf.  n.  on  v.  197. 


138  ST.  PETER  AND  THE  MINSTREL 

Points  seventeen,  and  now  he  boasts 
This  shall  count  him  for  forty  souls. 

The  minstrel  answered,  “That’s  all  right. 

220  Now  after  you  I come  in  turn.” 

And  then  he  throws  upon  the  board. 

“That  throw  is  worth  less  than  a herring,” 

St.  Peter  said,  “you’ve  lost  again, 

For  I see  fives  on  your  three  dice. 

225  To-day  I’m  not  in  great  distress, 

You  owe  me  now  two  score  and  three.”  19 
“Indeed,”  says  t’other,  “by  God’s  heart,20 
I ne’er  saw  such  a game  before ; 

By  all  the  saints  that  are  in  Rome 
230  I’d  not  trust  you  nor  any  man 

That  said  you  hadn’t  placed  the  dice.” 21 
“Why  don’t  you  throw  ? have  you  gone  mad  ?” 

“I  think  you  were  an  arrant  thief. 

Since  you  are  still  so  much  a cheat 
235  That  you  still  can’t  restrain  yourself 

From  changing  dice  or  placing  them.” 

St.  Peter  heard,  was  wroth  at  that. 

In  anger  he  gan  say  to  him : 

“You  lie  in  that,  so  save  me  God ; 

240  But  that’s  the  usage  of  a rogue. 

When  others  do  not  as  he  likes, 

He  tells  them  that  they  change  the  dice ; 

A curse  on  him  charged  me  with  that. 

And  on  whoever  placed  the  dice. 

245  A very  foolish  rascal  you. 

Since  you  took  me  to  be  a thief ; 

I’m  much  inclined,  by  St.  Marcel, 

To  wipe  your  ugly  mug  for  you.” 

“For  sure,”  says  he,  with  rage  on  fire, 

250  “A  thief  you  are,  you  old  man,  you. 

Wishing  to  spoil  my  game  for  me. 

You  shall  not  carry  off  a penny.” 

“Oh,  no  ! for  you’ll  seize  all  yourself.22 

19  See  note  on  v.  208. 

20  The  original  is  par  le  cuer  bieu,  literally,  ‘by  the  heart  of  God’  ( bieu  is  a dis- 
guised form  for  Dieu).  It  is  perhaps  worth  notice  that  in  Chaucer’s  Pardoner  s 
Tale  the  passage  against  hasardrye  leads  up  to  verses  against  idle  swearing  which 
contain  the  line,  “By  goddes  precious  herte,  and  by  his  nayles”  (v.  323),  as  a dicer’s 
oath.  I have  preferred  to  use  a corresponding  form  in  modem  English  rather  than 
adopt  one  of  the  many  disguised  oaths  of  similar  origin  in  English  (cf.  the  Oxford 
English  Dictionary,  s.  v.  God,  13,  14). 

21  That  is,  set  them  down  carefully  so  as  not  to  let  them  roll. 

22  These  two  lines  (253-254)  I assign  to  St.  Peter;  in  the  printed  text  used  they 
are  taken  as  part  of  the  minstrel’s  speech.  “If  you  can”  is  an  addition  of  mine. 


EDWARD  STEVENS  SHELDON 


139 


Come  on  and  take  them,  if  you  can.” 

255  Up  springs  t’  other  the  spoil  to  snatch. 

St.  Peter,  without  more  ado. 

Gives  him  a blow  below  the  ribs. 

And  he  at  that  lets  fall  the  coins ; 

And  he  was  much  enraged  at  heart. 

260  The  saint  he  seizes  by  the  beard. 

And  pulls  at  it  with  all  his  might. 

St.  Peter  too  took  hold  and  tore 
His  clothing  all,  down  to  the  waist. 

Never  the  minstrel  felt  such  rage 
265  As  now,  to  see  his  naked  flesh 

Exposed  as  far  as  to  his  belt. 

Much  have  they  scratched  each  other  then, 

And  beaten,  pounded,  hauled  about. 

Full  well  the  minstrel  sees  at  last 
270  That  his  strength  here  avails  him  nought, 

For  he  is  not  so  strong  nor  big 
As  is  the  saint,  nor  powerful ; 

And  if  he  keeps  on  with  the  fray 
His  clothes  will  all  be  so  in  rags 
275  They  never  will  serve  him  again. 

“Now,  sir,”  said  he,  “ let  us  make  peace. 

We’ve  tried  each  other’s  strength  enough ; 

Now  let  us  play  again  like  friends, 

If  it  suits  you  and  pleases  you.” 

280  St.  Peter  said,  “It  grieves  me  much 

That  you  blamed  me  about  my  play. 

And  that  you  me  a thief  did  call.” 

“Sir,”  answered  he,  “I  spoke  as  mad. 

And  I regret  it,  do  not  doubt. 

285  But  you  have  done  still  worse  to  me. 

For  you  have  torn  my  clothing  so 
That  I shall  suffer  much  distress ; 

Now  call  it  quits,  and  so  will  I.” 

And  said  St.  Peter,  “I  agree.” 

290  At  that  they  kissed  in  all  good  faith. 

“Friend,”  said  St.  Peter,  “list  to  me. 

Souls  forty-three  to  me  you  owe.”  23 
’Tis  true,”  says  he,  “by  St.  Germain, 

Too  early  24 1 began  the  play. 

295  Now  let’s  resume,  if  it  please  you, 

23  He  seems  to  be  referring  only  to  his  winnings  in  the  second  game  (v.  226),  not 
counting  twenty-one  won  at  tremerel;  cf.  notes  on  vv.  177,  214. 

24  The  sense  is  apparently : I began  playing  too  early  in  the  day,  before  I had 
full  possession  of  all  my  faculties,  or  before  I was  fully  awake.  Semrau  translates 
the  phrase  ( trop  main ) by  “mit  zu  wenig  Erfolg,”  without  further  explanation. 
Hertz  has  “zu  mager.” 


140  ST.  PETER  AND  THE  MINSTREL 

And  be  the  count  threefold  or  quits.  . . .”  25 
“In  God’s  name,”  says  the  saint,  “agreed; 

But,  my  dear  friend,  just  list  a bit : 

300  Will  you  pay  me  without  dispute  ?” 

“Yes,”  answered  he,  “with  all  my  heart, 
Entirely  at  your  wish  I will. 

In  knights,  or  ladies,  canons  too. 

Or  thieves,  or  fighting  men,  or  monks ; 

305  If  freemen  you  prefer  or  churls. 

Or  priests,  or  chaplains,  as  you  will.” 

“Friend,”  said  the  saint,  “you’re  talking  sense.” 
“Now  make  your  throw  and  do  not  cheat.” 

St.  Peter  threw  and  got  this  time 
310  A five,  a four,  and  just  one  trey. 

The  minstrel  said,  “That’s  twelve  I see.” 

“Oh  dear  !”  St.  Peter  said,  “oh  dear  ! 

If  Jesus  takes  not  pity  on  me. 

This  last  throw  brings  me  nought  but  shame.” 
315  The  other  throws  with  eagerness. 

It’s  fives  and  deuce,  and  nothing  more. 

“My  God,”  the  saint  said,  “good  result 
Will  yet  come  for  me  from  this  tie. 

Now  twenty- two,  win  I or  lose  !”  26 
320  The  minstrel  said,  “So  let  it  be. 

Then  throw ; the  risk  is  twenty-two.” 

“I  throw  now,  in  St.  Julian’s  name.” 

St.  Peter  throws  without  delay 
Two  sixes  and  a single  ace. 

325  The  saint  said,  “I  have  thrown  in  luck, 

For  I beat  you  by  just  one  point.” 

“ See  how  he’s  almost  done  for  me. 

Beating  me  by  a single  point ! 

I never  yet  was  fortunate 


25  As  it  seems,  a new  start  is  made  with  no  stake  mentioned  at  first ; later,  after 
the  tie,  twenty-two  seems  to  be  the  stake  (v.  319) ; the  last  von  of  forty-three  is 
admitted,  but  the  game  starts  afresh  without  regard  to  that  number.  It  may  be 
observed  that  when  the  change  was  made  before,  the  number  seemed  wrong  (see 
v.  214  and  note  there).  Here,  if  the  stake  is  twenty-two,  we  should  expect  the 
winner  to  get  sixty-six  (three  times  twenty-two,  instead  of  the  former  arrangement 
by  which  the  winnings  would  amount  to  twice  the  stake)  plus  three  as  before,  or  in 
all  sixty-nine.  But  no  number  at  all  is  mentioned  below.  As  at  v.  214  the  stake 
proposed,  with  a total  of  sLxty-nine  this  time  for  the  winner,  would,  if  the  minstrel 
wins,  clear  his  debt  of  forty-three  (plus  perhaps  twenty-one  lost  at  tremerel?),  or 
in  all  at  most  sixty-four,  and  give  him  a claim  on  some  of  the  money. 

26  Let  the  stake  be  twenty-two  souls,  hit  or  miss  (i.e.,  whether  he  wins  or  loses). 
He  will  win,  it  seems,  if  he  throws  more  than  the  number  (twelve)  at  which  the 
two  players  were  just  tied.  The  other  player  has  no  throw,  as  Peter  gets  thirteen 
and  so  wins. 


330 

335 

340 

345 

350 

355 

360 

365 

370 

375 


EDWARD  STEVENS  SHELDON 


141 


But  always  was  a luckless  man, 

A wretched  man,  a hapless  man, 

Both  here  and  in  the  world  alway.” 

Now  when  the  souls  that  were  in  fire 
Heard  this  and  clearly  understood 
That  St.  Peter  had  won  indeed, 

From  all  sides  they  called  out  to  him : 

“Sire,  for  God’s  sake  the  glorious, 

We  fully  trust  ourselves  to  you.” 

And  said  St.  Peter,  “I  accept. 

I trust  you  all ; do  you  trust  me. 

From  torment  here  you  all  to  save 
I risked  at  play  my  money  all 
But  if  I had  lost  everything 
You  would  have  had  no  chance  at  all. 

If  it  please  God,  before  this  night 
You  all  shall  be  companions  mine.” 

At  that  the  minstrel  was  struck  dumb, 

And  then  he  spoke  : “One  thing  or  t’other  ! 
I’ll  either  square  my  debt  in  full 
Or  else  I’ll  lose  my  all  for  good, 

The  souls  each  one  and  my  shirt  too.” 

I will  not  tire  you  with  details  : 

The  saint  kept  up  the  game  so  long 
And  held  the  minstrel  so  at  play 
That  he  at  last  won  all  the  souls. 

From  hell  he  led  them  out  in  throngs, 

And  led  them  up  to  Paradise. 

The  minstrel  stayed  behind  abashed. 

In  grief  of  mind,  in  anger  too. 

Lo,  now  the  devils  have  come  back : 

When  their  chief  was  once  more  at  home 
He  looked  about  and  all  around, 

But  saw  no  soul  in  front,  behind. 

In  furnace  none,  in  cauldron  none. 

The  minstrel  then  he  summoned  forth : 
“Speak  up,”  he  said,  “where  have  they  gone. 
The  souls  that  I left  in  your  charge  ?” 

“My  lord,”  quoth  he,  “I’ll  tell  it  you. 

For  God’s  sake,  mercy  have  on  me  ! 

An  old  man  came  but  now  to  me, 

And  brought  in  money,  past  all  count. 

I thought  indeed  to  get  it  all. 

And  he  and  I for  it  we  played. 

But  it  turned  out  amiss  for  me, 

He  must  have  played  with  loaded  dice. 

The  trickster,  the  deceitful  man. 

I had  no  luck,  upon  my  word, 


142  ST.  PETER  AND  THE  MINSTREL 

And  I have  lost  your  people  all.” 

Now  when  the  chief  heard  him  speak  thus 
380  He  all  but  hurled  him  in  to  burn : 

“You  whoreson  rogue,”  quoth  he,  “you  wretch. 
Your  minstrelsy  costs  me  too  dear. 

A curse  on  him  that  brought  you  in  ! 

By  my  head,  he  shall  pay  for  this  !” 

385  They  made  straight  for  that  luckless  imp 

Who’d  brought  the  minstrel’s  soul  within.  . . . 
393  So  well  they  beat  and  hustled  him 

That  he  at  last  gave  them  his  word 
395  Never  again  at  any  time 

To  bring  a minstrel  into  hell. 

Their  chief  spoke  to  the  minstrel  then  : 

“Fair  friend,  be  off  from  my  abode  ! 

A curse  light  on  your  minstrelsy, 

400  Since  I have  lost  my  houseful  by ’t. 

Be  off  from  here,  I tell  you,  go  ! 

I have  no  care  for  such  a servant. 

I ne’er  will  seek  a minstrel’s  soul. 

Nor  will  I lodge  one  of  that  breed. 

405  I’ll  none  of  them,  go  they  their  way, 

Let  God  have  them,  for  he  loves  joy  ! 

Be  off  to  God,  they’re  not  for  me.” 

And  he  makes  off  fast  as  he  can ; 

The  devils  drive  him  out  of  hell. 

410  Towards  Paradise  he  took  his  way. 

And  when  St.  Peter  saw  him  come 
He  ran  to  ope  for  him  the  gate ; 

Fine  lodgings  he  allotted  him. 

Now  let  the  minstrels  all  make  merry, 

415  Be  gay  and  joyous  as  they  please. 

For  hell’s  torment  is  not  for  them. 

There’s  one  has  saved  them  from  that  fate 
Gambling  away  the  souls  at  dice. 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


Morris  Jastrow,  Jr. 

University  of  Pennsylvania 

I 

The  search  for  the  soul  has  always  been  one  of  the  favorite 
pursuits  of  man’s  speculative  instincts  from  the  remote 
period  of  primitive  culture  down  to  our  own  age,  which, 
although  so  predominatingly  scientific,  has  not  — fortunately 
perhaps  — succeeded  in  brushing  away  all  the  cobwebs  of 
popular  fancy.  Hence  it  can  happen  that,  in  our  own  days, 
experiments  should  be  undertaken  in  a serious  spirit  to  weigh 
the  human  soul,  — attempts  which  rest  essentially  on  the 
same  crudely  materialistic  conceptions  that  led  simple  folk 
and  even  philosophers  in  antiquity  to  locate  the  soul  some- 
where in  the  human  body. 

The  earliest  philosophy  of  mankind  is  necessarily  materi- 
alistic. In  man’s  first  endeavors  to  find  a solution  for  the 
two  most  striking  mysteries  of  which  he  is  conscious,  the 
world  of  phenomena  about  him  and  the  fact  of  his  own  ex- 
istence, it  is  natural  that  he  should,  on  the  one  hand,  trace 
the  origin  of  the  world  to  some  single  substance  as  the 
starting-point  of  the  evolution  of  matter,  and  that  on  the 
other,  he  should  be  led  to  localize  in  himself  an  element  that 
would  appear  to  him  to  constitute  the  essence  of  his  own 
life.  One  might  have  supposed  the  blood  to  be  the  sub- 
stance that  would  most  naturally  suggest  itself  as  the 
source  of  life ; and  as  a matter  of  fact,  among  many  na- 
tions, both  primitive  and  advanced,  we  find  blood  closely 
associated  with  life.  This  is  the  view  that  underlies  the 
Biblical  tale  of  Cain  and  Abel.  The  actual  shedding  of 
Abel’s  blood  is  dwelt  upon  as  the  cause  of  his  death,  and 
hence  the  ordinary  expression  for  murder  in  Hebrew  is  the 

143 


144 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


‘ pouring  out  of  blood.’  Similarly  the  word  for  blood  is  used 
synonymously  with  the  term  for  ‘life’  or  ‘soul.’  Yet,  al- 
though the  sight  of  blood  flowing  from  an  inflicted  wound 
would  suggest  in  the  case  of  both  man  and  animals  that 
life  is  to  be  found  in  the  blood,  inasmuch  as  death  ordinarily 
ensues  without  violence  and  without  any  actual  loss  of 
blood,  the  conclusion  would  be  drawn  that  there  is  some- 
thing else  besides  the  blood  which  conditions  life. 

Early  thought  does  not  distinguish  sharply  between  con- 
ceptions that  in  a more  scientific  age  would  be  kept  apart, 
and  we  must  pass  down  to  the  period  of  Greek  philosophy 
before  we  encounter  a differentiation  between  soul  and  life. 
To  the  primitive  mind,  and  even  in  popular  parlance  among 
the  advanced  nations  of  antiquity,  soul  and  life,  even  when 
two  separate  terms  exist,  are  used  interchangeably.  The 
problem  of  life,  therefore,  as  it  presented  itself  to  antiquity, 
was  to  seek  for  some  locality  in  the  body  which  might  be 
regarded  as  the  ultimate  source  of  life,  and  hence  as  the  seat 
of  the  soul. 

Scholars  have  hitherto  recognized  that  the  heart  was 
widely  regarded  in  antiquity  as  the  seat  of  life.  This  was 
the  view  currently  held  in  ancient  India.  In  Sanskrit  litera- 
ture the  heart  is  the  seat  of  thought,  and  since  thought  is  the 
most  significant  and  most  direct  manifestation  of  the  soul, 
the  heart  is  identified  with  the  soul,  and,  as  such,  becomes 
also  the  source  of  all  emotions  and  the  general  symbol  of 
vitality.  In  the  Atharva-Veda  we  read  of  “ the  fluttering 
mind  that  has  found  place  in  the  heart.”  1 Agni  is  pictured 
as  confounding  the  evil  intent  of  adversaries  — “that  which 
is  in  their  heart  ” — and  he  is  called  upon  to  consume  them 
in  their  hearts  with  pangs.2  Not  only  is  all  ‘thought’  and 
‘design’  placed  in  the  heart,3  but  in  the  philosophy  of  India 
the  spirit  of  man  is  actually  described  as  dwelling  in  the 
heart  and  pictured  as  about  the  size  of  a thumb,  or  in  an- 
other passage  as  smaller  than  a seed  of  corn  or  rice,  and 
yet,  despite  its  smallness,  endowed  with  infinity  of  being, 
and  identified  with  the  all-embracing  universal  soul.  Even 
a particular  spot  in  the  heart  is  assigned  as  the  seat  of  the 

1 Whitney-Lanman,  Atharva-Veda,  1.  294  (vi.  18.  3). 

2 Ibid.,  1.  86  (iii.  2.  3-5).  3 Ibid.,  2.  651-653  (si.  9.  1 and  13). 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


145 


soul,  and  in  sleep  the  soul  is  supposed  to  transfer  its  seat  to 
the  heart  bag. 

Among  the  Greeks  and  Romans  we  find  practically  the 
same  view  both  in  popular  beliefs  and  among  the  early  phi- 
losophers, as  well  as  among  the  physicians  down  to  a certain 
period.  In  Homer,  all  the  intellectual  and  emotional  fac- 
ulties, including  love  and  courage,  are  placed  in  the  heart, 
which  thus  becomes  equivalent  to  being  the  seat  of  soul- 
activity.4  And  despite  the  fact  that  under  the  influence 
of  anatomical  knowledge,  which  established  the  important 
function  of  the  brain  — even  before  the  days  of  Plato,  it 
would  seem  — the  view  arose  which  gave  to  the  head  the 
distinction  of  containing  the  soul,  in  popular  usage  as  well 
as  in  some  scientific  circles  the  older  notion  survived.  Anac- 
reon 5 advised  perfuming  the  breast,  beneath  which  is  the 
heart,  in  the  belief  that  the  perfume  would  bring  calm  to 
one’s  spirit ; and  Athenseus,  who  reports  this  of  Anacreon, 
expressly  adds  that  this  was  done,  because  according  to 
Praxagoras  and  Philotimus  — both  physicians  — the  soul 
was  located  in  the  heart. 

The  more  advanced  view,  which  placed  the  soul  in  the 
brain,  is  attributed  to  Pythagoras  and  Democritus,  but  finds 
a more  definite  expression  in  Hippocrates  (ca.  460-377  b.c.), 
who  not  only  distinguishes  between  the  intellectual  and 
the  emotional  faculties,  but  within  the  latter  recognizes  two 
divisions : the  higher  emotions,  like  courage,  and  the  lower, 
among  which  are  the  passions  and  appetites.  The  higher 
are  located  in  the  heart,  the  lower  in  the  region  of  the  liver. 
Practically  the  same  view  is  taken  by  Plato,  although,  as 
we  shall  see,6  he  also  attempts  a compromise  between  older 
and  later  views ; but  the  greatest  of  Greek  philosophers, 
Aristotle,  still  clings  to  the  view  that  the  seat  of  the  intel- 
lectual functions  is  in  the  heart.  While  differentiating  be- 
tween soul  and  intellect,  he  makes  the  nous  a part  of  the 
; psyche J 


4 Seymour,  Homeric  Age,  p.  489. 

6 Athenseus,  Deipnosophistae,  Book  xv,  § 36.  6 See  below,  p.  166. 

7 De  Anima,  iii.  4.  Aristotle  specifies  that  the  vovs,  ‘spirit,’  is  that  wherewith 
the  soul  tyvx'h)  thinks  and  grasps.  See  Jastrow,  Aspects  of  Religious  Belief  and 
Practice  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  p.  153,  note  1. 


146 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


The  argument  of  Aristotle  in  favor  of  the  heart  as  the 
seat  of  the  soul  is  curious,  coining  from  one  who  is  usually- 
swayed  by  purely  scientific  considerations,  but  also  interest- 
ing as  illustrative  of  the  tenacious  hold  of  traditional  con- 
ceptions even  on  men  of  science.  Aristotle  argues  that  the 
soul  must  be  located  in  the  noblest  organ  of  the  body,  and 
that  is  the  heart.  The  highest  expression  of  man’s  being 
must  come  from  the  noblest  part. 

The  Stoics  may  also  be  cited  as  examples  among  Greek 
philosophers  who  clung  to  the  older  view.  Plutarch  has  an 
interesting  passage  8 which  shows  that  the  change  from  heart 
to  brain  was  only  gradually  brought  about,  and  that  after 
considerable  discussion  as  to  a number  of  places  in  the  head 
where  the  intellect  was  supposed  to  be  located.  While 
Plato  and  Democritus  placed  it  in  the  head  in  general,  Strato, 
he  says,  fixed  the  seat  of  the  intellect  between  the  eyebrows, 
Erasistratos  underneath  the  scalp,  Herophilos  at  the  bottom 
of  the  head.  Parmenides  and  Epicurus  were  among  those 
who  clung  to  the  view  which  placed  the  intellect  — and 
the  soul  — in  the  breast,  the  Stoics  placed  it  in  the  heart, 
while  Diogenes  specified  the  ventricles  of  the  heart,  and 
Empedocles  the  blood  of  the  heart  — an  interesting  com- 
promise between  blood  and  heart  as  coextensive  with  life. 
Others,  he  adds,  placed  the  soul  in  the  arteries  of  the  heart, 
some  in  the  pericardium,  and  again  others  in  the  diaphragm, 
— a compromise  between  liver  and  heart.  The  eclectic 
disposition  reaches  its  limit  in  the  views  of  those  who,  like 
Pythagoras,  made  the  soul  extend  from  the  head  to  the 
heart  or  even  to  the  diaphragm.9  Among  the  arguments 
used  by  the  Stoics  in  support  of  their  preference  for  the 
heart  as  against  the  head,  Galen  (ca.  130-200  a.d.)  furnishes 
the  one  offered  by  Zeno,  which  is  curious  enough  to  be 
added.10  Zeno  reasoned  as  follows : The  voice  comes 
through  the  throat.  If  it  came  from  the  head,  it  would  not 
pass  through  the  throat ; whence  the  voice  comes  must  also 

8 De  Placitis  Philosophorum,  iv.  5. 

9 In  judging  of  these  strange  and  erratic  opinions,  it  is  well  to  bear  in  mind  that 
as  late  as  the  Middle  Ages  the  belief  was  quite  general,  even  among  physiologists, 
that  the  soul  was  located  in  a particular  spot  at  the  base  of  the  brain. 

10  (Euvres  de  Galen,  2.  244  f.  (edited  by  Daremberg). 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


147 


be  the  seat  of  the  intellect.  Hence  the  head  cannot  be  the 
seat  of  the  intellect. 

In  Hebrew,  likewise,  the  heart  is  the  seat  of  the  intellect, 
and  although  the  literary  language  differentiates  between 
intellectual  and  emotional  processes  — the  emotions  being 
placed  beneath  the  diaphragm  in  the  bowels  or  kidneys  — 
there  are  numerous  passages  in  the  Old  Testament  , especially 
in  poetry  (see  below,  p.  148),  which  prove  the  persistence  of 
the  older  conception  that  concentrated  within  the  heart  all 
the  intellectual  and  emotional  functions  associated  with 
the  manifestation  of  man’s  soul-activity. 

In  illustration  of  Latin  usage,  we  find  Persius  (Satires, 
vi.  2)  employing  the  phrase  ‘cor  jubet  hoc  Enni  ’ as  the  equiv- 
alent to  Ennius  hoc  jubet;11  and  as  further  evidence  for  the 
strength  which  this  older  view  maintained  even  among  men 
of  science  down  to  a late  day,  it  is  sufficient  to  quote  the  ut- 
terance of  Paracelsus,  “ Cseterum  non  corpus  homo  est  sed 
cor  est  homo,”12  or  the  saying  of  a late  Spanish  chronicler 
that  “The  root  of  man  is  his  heart.”  Vauvenargues  reflects 
the  same  view  when  he  declares,  “ Les  grandes  pen  sees 
viennent  du  coeur,”  and  we  speak  of  ‘learning  by  heart’  and 
‘knowing  something  by  heart,’ 13  just  as  our  word  ‘record’ 
takes  us  back  to  the  age  which  believed  that  knowledge  was 
deposited  in  the  heart.  In  sacrificial  rites  among  various 
nations  the  heart  of  the  victim  is  accorded  special  honors  as 
the  seat  of  life,  and  in  further  illustration  of  this  distinction 
accorded  to  the  heart,  we  have  the  large  number  of  instances, 
from  the  days  of  Robert  d’Arbrissel  (died  1117)  down  to  our 
own  days,  of  special  burials  for  the  hearts  of  rulers,  saints,  and 
warriors.14 


11  Ennius,  who  spoke  three  languages,  Greek,  Oscan,  and  Latin,  significantly 
says  of  himself  that  he  has  ‘three  hearts’  (Gellius,  Noctes,  Book  xvii.  17),  — an- 
other indication  of  the  identification  of  the  heart  with  the  seat  of  intellect. 

12  Interpretatio  alia  totius  Astronomiae  (Paracelsi  Opera,  2.  670,  Geneva,  1658). 

13  Compare  the  French  ‘apprendre  par  coeur,’  ‘je  sais  par  cceur.’ 

14  See  the  long  list  of  illustrations  in  Andry,  Recherches  sur  le  Cceur  et  le  Foie 
(Paris,  1856),  pp.  106-122.  It  was  customary  also  for  the  hearts  of  the  rulers  of 
Bavaria  to  be  taken  out  of  the  bodies  and  to  be  buried  in  the  church  at  Ettal, 
even  when  the  bodies  were  placed  elsewhere. 


148 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


II 

There  is,  however,  considerable  evidence  at  our  disposal 
to  show  that  in  a still  earlier  age  than  the  one  which  selected 
the  heart  as  the  seat  of  the  soul,  there  was  another  organ  to 
which  this  distinction  was  accorded,  namely,  the  liver. 
In  Greek  poetry,  it  has  been  observed,15  the  word  rjTrap 
is  introduced  where  in  prose  the  word  for  ‘heart’  would 
be  used.  When  the  poet  wishes  to  say  of  one  that  he  is 
mortally  wounded,  he  does  not  say  that  ‘he  is  struck  in 
the  heart’  but  that  he  is  ‘hit  in  the  liver.’  16  Megarus, 
disconsolate  over  the  death  of  his  children,  prays  that  he  too 
may  die  through  a poisoned  arrow  in  his  liver.17  The  late 
Professor  Lamberton  informed  me  that  he  did  not  recall 
a single  instance  in  Greek  poetry  in  which  the  word  ‘heart’ 
was  employed  as  indicative  of  the  seat  of  vitality.  Such  a 
circumstance  points  unmistakably  to  a time  when  the  liver 
was  regarded  as  the  seat  of  life,  or,  what  in  popular  fancy 
amounts  to  the  same  thing,  as  the  seat  of  the  soul.  Poetic 
speech,  by  virtue  of  the  general  archaic  character  of  poetry, 
retains  the  earlier  view.  Bion  18  makes  Venus  express  the 
hope  at  the  sight  of  the  slain  Adonis  that  the  last  breath  of 
her  son  may  pass  into  her  liver,  i.e.  into  her  soul,  and  so 
Hecuba,  vowing  vengeance  for  her  husband’s  death,  declares 
that  she  will  not  rest  until  she  has  devoured  ‘the  liver’  of 
Achilles.19 

The  myth  of  Prometheus  chained  to  a rock,  as  the  punish- 
ment sent  by  the  gods,  with  a vulture  eating  his  liver,  rests 
on  the  same  belief,  the  liver  being  selected  as  the  seat  of 
vitality.  Incidentally,  this  touch  reveals  the  antiquity  of 
the  myth,  and  the  same  applies  to  the  story  of  Tityus,  the 
son  of  Jupiter,  who,  for  having  violated  Latone,  is  punished 
by  having  a serpent  (or  vultures)  pick  at  his  liver.20 

In  Hebrew  likewise  there  are  traces  of  this  earlier  view. 
While,  as  we  have  seen,  the  word  for  ‘heart’  (leb)  is  used 
as  a synonym  of  nephesh,  ‘soul.’  there  are  two  passages  in 

15  See  Stephanas,  Thesaurus  Linguae  Graecae ; or  Passow,  Griechisches  Worter- 
buch,  under  fiirap  ; Blecher,  De  Extispicio,  p.  58.  16  Cf.  Anacreon,  Ode  3. 

17  Moschus,  Idyll  iv.  30.  18  Bion,  Idyll  1.  47.  19  Iliad,  xxiv.  212. 

20  Hyginus,  Fabulae,  Iv. ; according  to  Homer,  Iliad,  xi.  578,  by  vultures. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


149 


the  Old  Testament  in  which  the  word  for  ‘liver’  (kabed) 
occurs  instead.  In  Lamentations  ii.  11  the  poet  says  : 

Poured  out  on  the  earth  is  my  liver,  over  the  destruction  of  my  people, 

where  the  expression  of  the  liver  being  poured  out  is  synony- 
mous with  the  more  common  one  of  the  blood  or  the  soul 
being  poured  out.21  Since  the  gall  belongs  to  the  liver,  the 
phrase  in  Job  xvi.  13  of  the  “gall  poured  on  the  ground,” 
is  synonymous  with  the  usage  in  Lamentations. 

Again,  in  Proverbs  vii.  23,  in  a description  of  how  one  who 
falls  into  the  meshes  of  the  lewd  woman  is  lured  on  to  de- 
struction, we  read : 

Until  the  arrow  pierces  his  liver,  as  the  bird  rushes  to  the  trap,  not 
knowing  that  it  means  his  life  (nephesh). 

Here  there  is  a direct  juxtaposition  of  ‘liver’  and  ‘life’  (or 
soul),  the  two  terms  being  used  synonymously,  as  elsewhere 
‘heart’  and  ‘life.’  In  the  Psalms  likewise  there  are  a num- 
ber of  passages  in  which  by  the  consensus  of  scholars  we 
must  read  kabed,  ‘liver,’  instead  of  kabod,  ‘honor,’  as  the 
text  has  it.  So  e.g.  Ps.  vii.  6 : 

Let  him  tread  down  my  life  to  the  earth,  and  drag  my  liver  to  the  dust. 

Here  again  we  have  the  juxtaposition  of  ‘life’  and  ‘liver.’ 
So  also  in  Ps.  xxx.  13  the  correct  reading  is 

That  my  liver  may  sing  praise  unto  thee  and  not  be  silent, 

synonymous  with  the  frequent  phrase  ‘let  my  heart  be  glad,’ 
or  ‘let  my  soul  rejoice.’ 

It  is  interesting  to  note  also  that  there  are  some  passages 
in  which  the  earlier  and  later  views  are  combined  by  the  in- 
troduction of  both  organs,  heart  and  liver,  that  together  sum 
up  what  we  should  call  soul.  In  Ps.  xvi.  9 the  Psalmist  says : 

Therefore  my  heart  is  glad,  and  my  liver  exulteth. 

In  Ps.  cviii.  2 : 

My  heart  is  "steadfast,  O God  ! I will  chant  and  I will  sing  — aye,  my 
liver  (shall  sing). 

21  In  Malay,  similarly,  blood  and  liver  are  used  as  synonymous  (Fasciculi  Ma- 
layenses,  Part  i.  p.  178). 


150 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


Here  the  phrase  ‘aye,  my  liver’  is  equivalent  to  ‘aye,  my 
soul.’  22  The  use  of  the  liver  or  of  the  gall  in  ancient  medi- 
cine reverts  to  the  same  conceptions  held  of  the  liver  as 
the  seat  of  vitality.  From  the  Talmud  23  we  learn  that  the 
liver  of  the  dog  was  a remedy  against  hydrophobia.  Tobit 
restores  the  sight  of  his  father  by  rubbing  his  eyes  with  the 
gall  of  a fish.24  Both  remedies  are  clearly  based  on  the  sup- 
position that  the  liver  as  the  seat  of  life  or  of  the  soul  is 
capable  of  restoring  the  intellect  and  sight,  which  are  mani- 
festations of  soul  life.  The  angel  Raphael  tells  Tobit  that 
by  burning  the  liver  of  the  fish  the  demon  may  be  chased 
away,  and  it  is  only  the  other  side  of  the  picture  if  the  gall 
is  viewed  as  destructive  of  life,  as,  e.g.,  in  the  famous  passage 
in  Matthew  xxvii.  34,  according  to  which  Jesus  on  the  cross 
is  given  ‘gall’  mixed  with  vinegar.  It  is  a common  phe- 
nomenon in  popular  traditions  that  what  gives  life  is  also 
capable  of  taking  it  away.  Corresponding  then  to  the  use 
of  the  liver  in  restoring  the  mind  of  man,  the  drinking  of  gall 
is  portrayed  by  Habakkuk  (ii.  15)  as  depriving  a man  of  his 
reason. 

The  natives  of  the  Tonga  Islands  25  attribute  left-handed- 
ness to  the  fact  that  the  liver  lies  more  to  the  left  side,  while 
in  the  case  of  ambidextrous  persons,  the  liver  is  supposed 
to  be  situated  toward  the  middle  between  the  two  sides. 
The  underlying  belief  is  evidently  in  this  case  also  that  the 
liver  is  the  seat  of  movements  which  a later  age  attributed 
to  the  brain  as  the  seat  of  the  soul,  and  the  same  belief 
accounts  for  the  fact  that  these  natives  attribute  liver 
diseases  to  the  gods,  who  select  this  organ  as  the  seat 


22  There  are  good  grounds  for  believing  that  the  phrase  kebod  Yahweh,  ‘glory 
of  God,’  stands  in  some  connection  with  the  view  that  makes  the  liver  the  seat  of 
the  soul.  The  ‘glory  of  God,’  in  the  sense  in  which  we  modems  take  it,  has  no  place 
in  ancient  Hebrew  (or  Semitic)  thought.  The  real  meaning  of  the  phrase  comes 
nearer  to  the  notion  of ‘spirit,’  ‘essence,’  of  God.  The  substantive  form  kabod 
may,  therefore,  ultimately  rest  upon  the  identification  of  kabed,  ‘fiver,’  with 
‘soul,’  ‘life,’  ‘vitality,’  ‘spirit,’  and  the  like.  See  Vollers,  Archiv  fur  Religionswis- 
senschaft,  ix.  180  f.  23  Yoma  (Babli),  84a. 

u Chap.  xi.  4,  8,  13.  See  also  vi.  7-9.  Some  texts  reflecting  later  practices 
read,  ‘the  heart,  gall-bladder,  and  liver.’ 

26  See  Mariner,  Tonga  Islands,  2.  127,  quoted  by  Andry,  pp.  78  and  233.  It  is 
merely  a shifting  from  liver  to  heart  that  leads  Nicholas  Massa  to  explain  left- 
handedness  and  right-handedness  according  to  the  position  of  the  heart. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


151 


of  vitality  to  punish  those  guilty  of  transgressing  taboo 
ordinances. 

In  Arabic,  too,  although  the  word  for  heart  is  used  as  the 
seat  of  the  intellect,  we  have  instances  of  the  occurrence 
of  the  term  kabid,  ‘liver,’  in  a connection  which  shows  that 
the  Arabs  at  one  time  associated  the  liver  with  the  soul. 

In  answer  to  a question  whether  a Moslem  might  expect 
to  receive  divine  reward  for  good  deeds  to  animals,  Mo- 
hammed is  reported  to  have  said,  “for  every  moist  liver 
there  is  a reward.”26  The ‘moist  liver’  is  the  ‘living  liver,’ 
and  the  ‘living  liver’  is  the  ‘living  soul.’  On  the  occasion 
of  a great  grief,  when  the  fidelity  of  his  favorite  spouse  was 
questioned,  Mohammed  says  of  himself,  “I  cried  two  nights 
and  one  day,  until  it  seemed  as  though  my  liver  would 
split,”27  equivalent  to  our  phrase  ‘as  though  my  heart 
would  break.’  In  Arabic  poetry  the  word  for  liver  is  used, 
as  in  Hebrew  poetry,  as  a synonym  for  ‘soul,’  and  there  is 
an  instance  of  a variant  reading  ‘ laceration  of  the  soul  ’ for 
‘laceration  of  the  liver.’ 28 

An  abundance  of  additional  evidence  for  the  same  belief 
among  various  other  nations  is  at  our  disposal,  all  point- 
ing to  the  circumstance  that  at  an  earlier  period  the  liver 
was  accorded  the  position  subsequently  assigned  to  the  heart, 
and  still  later  to  the  brain.29  So,  to  give  only  a few  more 
examples,  the  Armenians  speak  of  a ‘broken  liver,’  where 
we  should  say  a ‘broken  heart,’ 30  and  the  Persians  to  ex- 
press the  idea  of  fear  say  that  ‘one’s  liver  has  melted.’ 
Among  the  Chinese,31  in  popular  beliefs  as  well  as  in  medical 
treatises,  the  liver  is  regarded  as  the  seat  of  the  soul.  Its 
predominance  over  the  heart  is  indicated  by  the  designa- 
tion of  the  liver  as  the  ‘mother  of  the  heart,’  that  is  to  say, 
the  source  of  the  functions  assigned  to  the  heart.  Among 


26  Bokhari  (ed.  Krehl)  2.  78  (chap.  42.  9).  27  Ibid.,  p.  155  (chap.  52.  15). 

28  Ghuztill  Matali'  al-Budur  (Cairo  ed.)  1.  198,  line  6;  Thousand  and  One 
Nights  (2d  Bulak  ed.)  2.  230.  I owe  these  references  to  my  friend.  Professor 
C.  C.  Torrey,  of  Yale  University. 

29  Gathered  by  Felix  Andry,  Recherches  sur  le  coeur  et  le  foie  (Paris,  1856), 
pp.  225-279,  without,  however,  recognizing  the  real  significance  of  the  valuable 
material  amassed  by  him  with  such  diligence. 

30  Andry,  p.  231,  on  the  authority  of  Mr.  Dulaurier. 

31  Scheube,  in  Neuburger  and  Pagel,  Handbuch  der  Geschichte  der  Medizin,  p.  25. 


152 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


the  Chinese  we  find  the  belief,  current  also  among  other 
nations,  that  if  one  eats  the  liver  or  gall  bladder  (as  a part  of 
the  liver)  of  one’s  enemy,  one  obtains  the  enemy’s  courage.32 

In  the  Latin  poets  we  encounter  the  liver  as  the  seat  of 
anger,  but  also  as  the  seat  of  love,  of  pity,  as  well  as  of  fear 
and  the  passions  in  general.33  When  Ovid  34  refers  to  the 
custom  of  making  an  image  of  the  enemy,  and  piercing  the 
region  of  the  liver  with  a needle,  as  a form  of  sympathetic 
magic,  to  bring  about  the  death  of  the  enemy,  we  have 
another  illustration  of  the  primitive  conceptions  which  were 
connected  with  the  liver,  and  which  were  subsequently 
transferred  to  the  heart ; 35  and  when  Hippocrates,36  despite 
his  advanced  position  in  assigning  the  highest  functions  of 
life  to  the  brain,  still  declares  that  the  liver  is  the  seat  of  the 
blood,  he  is  simply  giving  expression  in  more  scientific  form 
to  the  primitive  view,  which  places  in  the  liver  the  seat  of 
life.  Blood  being  associated  with  life,  the  liver  as  the  seat 
of  the  blood  would  be  at  the  same  time  the  seat  of  life. 

Even  in  our  own  modern  and  Occidental  speech  traces  of 
this  view  regarding  the  liver  which  was  once  so  general  have 
survived.  Rabelais  37  uses  the  phrase  “Je  t’ayme  du  bon  du 
foye,”  where  liver  is  the  equivalent  of  ‘heart’  or  even  soul. 
The  English  expression  ‘white-livered’  (see  below,  p.  168), 
like  its  Greek  equivalent  \ev/cr)7raTia<;,  is  used  as  a term  of 
reproach  for  the  cowardly  man,  but  it  rests  for  all  that  on 
the  belief  that  the  liver  is  the  seat  of  courage.  It  is  the  pale 
color  that  transforms  the  courageous  into  a timid  man, 
and  this  is  in  accord  with  the  usage  among  primitive  peoples, 
who  regard  a large  liver  as  an  index  of  great  bravely.38 
In  German,  one  still  describes  a man  of  frank,  open  mind 
by  saying  ‘ er  sprieht  frisch  von  der  Leber  weg  ’ (‘  he  speaks 
directly  from  the  liver’),  and  it  is  only  a slight  modification 
from  the  same  underlying  view  when  we  say,  of  one  who  is 

32  Andry,  p.  232.  33  See  the  collection  of  passages  in  Andry,  p.  240. 

34  Heroides,  vi.  91-92. 

35  See  the  picture  of  a pig’s  heart  transfixed  with  pins  and  thorns,  an  English 
rustic’s  malicious  charm.  (Joseph  Jastrow,  Malicious  Animal  Magnetism,  in 
Hampton’s  Magazine,  October,  1910,  p.  451.) 

36  Andry,  p.  277.  See  below,  p.  166. 

37  Quoted  by  Andry,  p.  276. 

38  Andry,  p.  232,  reports  this  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Tonga  Islands. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


153 


dull  and  colorless,  that  ‘he  has  no  bile’;39  and  so  illustra- 
tions might  be  multiplied  almost  ad  infinitum. 

Ill 

The  definite  proof  that  the  location  of  the  soul  was  at 
one  time  quite  generally  placed  in  the  liver  is  furnished  by 
the  divination  rites  prevailing  among  people  living  in  a 
state  of  primitive  culture.  In  Borneo,  Uganda,  Burma,  and 
elsewhere,  when  it  is  desired  to  forecast  the  future,  to  know 
the  outcome  of  sickness,  the  result  of  a military  expedition, 
and  the  like,  the  invariable  method  is  to  kill  a pig  or  fowl 
or  goat,  and  to  inspect  the  liver.  From  the  shape  and  color 
of  the  organ,  and  from  peculiar  symptoms  noted  on  the  lobes 
or  the  gall-bladder  or  on  the  various  ducts,  the  will  and  in- 
tention of  the  gods  are  determined.40  Similarly  among  the 
inhabitants  of  Nadravia  it  is  believed  that  by  examining 
the  liver  — also  the  spleen  — of  a pig  one  can  determine 
how  the  winter  will  turn  out,  whether  the  crops  will  be 
good,  whether  the  early  or  the  late  seed  will  thrive.41  Such 

35  Also  in  French  usage  (Andry,  p.  235),  ‘ qui  ne  se  fait  pas  de  bile  ’ ; and  in  Ger- 
man, ‘ er  hat  keine  Galle.’ 

40  Furness,  Home  Life  of  Borneo  Head  Hunters,  p.  43.  Dr.  Furness  kindly  gave 
me  a copy  of  a drawing  made  by  him  of  a pig’s  liver  inspected  in  his  presence  in 
November,  1897,  in  Borneo,  to  obtain  omens  for  a great  peacemaking  between  hos- 
tile tribes.  See  also  Haddon,  Head  Hunters,  p.  336  f. ; Hose  and  McDougal  in 
Journal  of  the  Anthropol.  Institute  of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland,  1901,  p.  180 
f . ; H.  Ling  Roth,  Natives  of  Sarawak,  1.  190;  R.  G.  Latham,  Descriptive 
Ethnology,  1.  61  f. ; J.  G.  Scott,  Gazetteer  of  Upper  Burma,  1.  552.  A mal- 
formed liver  or  one  of  an  unusually  dark  color  is  an  unfavorable  omen ; a smooth 
and  pale-colored  one  is  favorable.  Mr.  J.  G.  Frazer  in  a letter  to  the  writer 
(June  20,  1907)  quotes  from  his  notes  of  a conversation  with  Messrs.  Roscoe  and 
Miller,  missionaries  to  Uganda,  that  “divination  was  practised  in  LTganda,  goats 
were  killed,  and  from  an  inspection  of  the  inwards  the  diviner  made  his  prediction. 
The  liver  was  especially  consulted.”  Many  travellers  in  describing  divination 
rites  among  primitive  peoples  speak  in  an  indefinite  way  of  the  “entrails,”  others  of 
the  heart  and  lungs  (see  the  quotations  in  Blecher,  de  Extispicio,  p.  73  f.),  but 
one  may  be  permitted  to  doubt  whether  the  explorers  in  question  actually  witnessed 
the  inspection.  It  will  probably  be  found  that  the  ‘entrails’  were  in  reality  the 
liver;  and  when  Spenser  St.  John  speaks  of  “signs  discovered  upon  the  heart”  of 
the  pig  among  the  Sakarang  Dayaks  (Life  in  the  Forests  of  the  Far  East,  1.  63  f.), 
it  was  in  all  probability  a liver  that  he  saw,  or  that  was  described  to  him.  LTnless 
an  explorer  has  his  attention  especially  directed  towards  it,  he  might  easily  mistake 
one  part  of  a victim  for  the  other. 

41  Matthaeus  Prsetorius,  Delicias  Prussic®  (ed.  Pierson,  Berlin,  1870).  I owe 
this  reference  to  Dr.  L.  H.  Gray. 


154 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


rites  rest  on  the  belief  that  the  liver  is  the  seat  of  life,  and 
can  be  satisfactorily  explained  only  on  this  assumption. 
As  will  be  pointed  out  below,  the  soul  of  the  animal,  dedi- 
cated to  a deity  and  accepted  by  him,  reflects  the  soul  of 
the  god.  If,  therefore,  one  reads  the  soul  of  a pig,  fowl,  or 
goat  as  the  case  may  be,  one  obtains,  as  it  were,  an  insight 
into  the  soul  of  the  god.  The  rite  on  this  assumption  be- 
comes intelligible,  and  it  may  be  put  down  as  an  axiom 
that  primitive  rites  everywhere  rest  on  a well-defined  theory, 
— frequently  elaborate  and  complicated,  — and  are  not  the 
outcome  of  mere  caprice  or  fancy. 

The  view  that  the  liver  is  the  seat  of  life  or  of  the  soul 
crops  out  also  in  such  beliefs  found  among  primitive  peoples 
as  that  the  liver  of  the  dead  guru  transmits  to  the  one  who 
eats  it  the  powers  of  its  former  possessor,42  or  that  the  dried 
and  pulverized  liver  of  buffaloes,  when  given  to  cows,  insures 
their  fertility.43 

The  same  method  of  divination  plays  a most  prominent 
part  in  the  Babylonian-Assyrian  ritual,  and  it  is  sufficient 
to  refer  for  the  full  exposition  of  the  rite  with  copious  ex- 
amples to  chapter  20  in  the  writer’s  Religion  Babyloniens 
und  Assyriens  (2.  213-415).  The  antiquity  of  the  rite  and 
hence  its  direct  descent  from  primitive  conditions  is  shown 
by  the  references  to  it  in  the  earliest  Babylonian  texts,44 
while  the  strong  hold  that  the  rite  had  secured  follows  from 
its  persistence  from  the  oldest  period  down  to  the  end  of  the 
Neo-Babylonian  Empire.  On  all  occasions  when  it  became 
important  to  determine  what  the  gods  had  in  mind  for  the 
country  or  the  individual,  divination  through  the  liver  of 
a sacrificial  animal  — invariably  a sheep  — was  the  means 
resorted  to.  So  closely  indeed  was  the  liver  bound  up  with 
divination  that  the  cuneiform  sign  for  liver  was  also  used 
as  the  designation  of  an  omen.45  That  the  Babylonians, 
indeed,  also  reached  the  stage  in  which  the  important  func- 
tions of  the  heart  by  the  side  of  the  liver  were  recognized, 


42  Dehon,  Religion  and  Customs  of  the  Uraons  (Memoirs  of  the  Asiatic  Society 
of  Bengal,  1.  143). 

43  Klinghardt,  Beobachtungen  aus  Mpororo  (German  Africa),  in  Globus,  87.  308. 

44  Gudea  (ca.  2350  b.c.).  See  Jastrow,  Religion  Babyloniens  und  Assyriens, 

2.  273.  46  Jastrow,  Religion,  2.  217. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


155 


is  to  be  granted,  and  follows  from  the  phrase  so  frequently 
found  in  lamentation  hymns  addressed  to  an  angered  deity  : 
“May  thy  heart  be  at  rest,  thy  liver  be  appeased.”45  Here 
‘heart’  and  ‘liver’  sum  up  the  personality  of  the  deity; 
and  it  is  reasonable  to  conclude  that  in  this  combination 
‘heart’  represents,  as  in  Hebrew,  the  intellect,  and  ‘liver’ 
the  emotions.  Despite  this  differentiation,  however,  the 
heart  does  not  appear  at  any  time  to  have  found  a place  in 
the  divination  rites  of  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians. 
This  is  a valuable  confirmation  of  the  thesis  that  the  loca- 
tion of  the  soul  in  the  liver  represents  the  older  and  more 
primitive  view,  and,  therefore,  was  assigned  a place  in  the 
ritual  to  the  exclusion  of  the  heart. 

The  prominent  part  played  by  divination  through  the 
liver,  or  hepatoscopy,  among  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians 
from  the  oldest  to  the  latest  period  illustrates  not  only  the 
importance  attached  to  the  rite,  but  also  the  persistency  of 
the  belief  in  the  theory  underlying  the  rite.  That  theory 
may  be  briefly  stated  as  follows:47 

The  god  in  accepting  the  animal  offered  to  him  assimilates 
himself  with  the  animal,  much  in  the  same  way  that  a man 
becomes  one  with  the  food  that  he  eats.  The  pouring  or 
smearing  of  the  animal’s  blood  over  the  altar  or  stone  that 
is  the  seat  of  the  deity  is  merely  a symbolical  expression  of 
the  view  that  the  god  is  actually  united  to  the  animal.  The 
soul  of  the  god  and  the  soul  of  the  animal  are  thus  put  in 
complete  accord.  The  two  souls  may  be  compared  to  two 
watches  regulated  to  show  exactly  the  same  time,  so  that 
if  you  see  the  one,  you  know  the  indications  furnished  by 
the  other.  The  liver  of  the  sacrificial  animal  as  the  seat  of 
the  soul  thus  becomes  the  exact  reflection  of  the  soul,  i.e., 
therefore,  the  mind  and  thought  of  the  god.  If  one  can 
read  the  indications  furnished  by  the  animal’s  liver  aright, 
one  enters  thereby  into  the  mind  of  the  god  and  can  de- 

46  Jastrow,  Religion,  2.  29,  76,  78,  82,  85,  98,  etc.  (in  all  of  which  passages  the 
word  in  question  is  kabittu,  and  should  therefore  have  been  literally  translated  as 
‘Leber,’  and  not  ‘Gemiit’). 

47  For  a fuller  statement  see  a paper  by  the  writer,  “ Hepatoscopy  and  Astrology 
among  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians”  (Proceedings  American  Philosophical 
Society,  49.  646-676)  and  chapter  iii  in  the  writer’s  Aspects  of  Religious  Belief 
and  Practice  in  Babylonia  and  Assyria  (N.Y.,  1911). 


156 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


termine  his  innermost  thought.  Liver  divination  is  there- 
fore the  earliest  form  of  ‘mind  reading,’  and  the  prognosti- 
cation of  the  future  follows  as  a natural  corollary.  The 
future  being  in  control  of  the  gods,  if  one  knows  what  is  in 
the  mind  of  the  gods,  one  knows  what  is  going  to  happen 
on  earth. 

IV 

There  are  two  points  of  view  from  which  the  study  of 
liver  divination  among  the  Babylonians  and  Assyrians  as- 
sumes an  importance  transcending  the  mere  significance  at- 
tached to  an  old  religious  rite.  Through  this  study  we  are 
led  to  a view  of  animal  sacrifice  which  has  hitherto  escaped 
the  notice  of  investigators,  and  the  very  anticpiity  of  the 
rite  makes  it  at  least  possible  that  the  offering  of  an  animal 
for  the  purpose  of  divining  the  future  through  the  inspec- 
tion of  the  liver  may  represent  the  oldest  motive  for  animal 
sacrifice  in  general.  Certainly,  among  the  Babylonians 
and  Assyrians,  the  actual  killing  of  the  animal  in  honor  of 
a god  appears  to  have  been  undertaken  solely  as  a means  of 
divining  the  will  and  intentions  of  the  gods.  The  evidence 
is  both  abundant  and  conclusive  that  the  offering  of  an  ani- 
mal was  always  associated  with  the  divining  of  the  future, 
and  was  viewed  as  a divination  rite  among  the  Babylonians 
and  Assyrians.  The  thought  of  a sacrifice  as  a means  of 
communion  between  the  worshipper  and  the  deity,  what- 
ever may  be  the  facts  among  other  nations,48  is  conspicuous 
for  its  absence  in  the  civilization  produced  in  the  Euphrates 
Valley  ; and  even  sacrifice  as  a tribute  appears  to  be  secondary 
in  character.  Without  entering  into  the  details  of  the  sub- 
ject here,  which  would  carry  us  too  far,  the  suggestion  may 
be  thrown  out  that  sacrifice  as  tribute,  which  is  fundamental 
to  the  rite  as  set  forth  in  the  Pentateuchal  codes,  repre- 
sents a higher  and  later  view.  The  compilers  of  these  codes 
must,  of  course,  have  known  that  animal  sacrifice  was  a rite 
common  to  the  nations  around.  In  embodying  it  as  a rite 
in  their  code,  both  in  connection  with  the  expiatory  and  puri- 

48  It  is  sufficient  to  refer  here  to  Robertson  Smith,  Religion  of  the  Semites,  p.  251 
f.,  and  the  same  author’s  article  on  ‘ Sacrifice  ’ in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica 
(10th  edition). 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


157 


fication  ritual  and  as  a symbol  of  thanksgiving,  they  sought 
to  invest  it  with  a new  meaning  that  would  separate  it  from 
associations  distasteful  to  them,  and  for  this  reason  con- 
ceived of  it  as  a tribute  to  the  deity.49 

Sacrifice  as  a symbol  of  communion  between  the  worship- 
per and  the  god  appears  to  be  incidental  to  the  rite,  prompted 
by  the  desire  or  instinct  to  sanctify  the  blood  on  the  one 
hand,  and  on  the  other  to  participate  actively  in  this  sancti- 
fication. 

Liver  divination  has  wider  bearings  also  from  another 
point  of  view.  It  marks  the  beginnings  of  the  study  of 
anatomy,50  for  in  the  effort  to  note  the  signs  on  the  liver,  the 
organ  itself  was  studied,  and  a terminology  developed  which 
distinguished  its  various  parts.  Thus  the  right  and  left 
lobe  were  distinguished  as  the  right  and  left  wing,  the  gall- 
bladder was  designated  as  the  ‘bitter’  part,  the  cystic  duct 
by  an  ideograph  which  appears  to  have  conveyed  the  idea 
of  a penis,  while  the  hepatic  duct  was  spoken  of  as  the  ‘foot.’ 
The  upper  lobe,  known  in  modern  terminology  as  the  lobus 
caudatus,  was  likewise  distinguished  by  a separate  designa- 
tion, as  were  the  two  appendices  attached  to  this  lobe,  the 
larger  one  (the  processus  pyramidalis)  being  appropriately 
named  the  ‘finger’  of  the  liver.  The  porta  hepatis  was  de- 
scribed as  a ‘womb,’  while  the  markings  on  the  liver,  due 
for  the  most  part  to  the  tracings  on  the  liver  surface  of  the 
subsidiary  ducts  gathering  the  gall  from  the  liver  into  the 
hepatic  duct,  were  known  as  ‘holes,’  ‘paths,’  or  ‘weapons,’ 
and  fantastically  associated,  according  to  their  constantly 
varying  forms,  with  the  weapons  of  the  gods. 

The  method  of  divination  rested  largely  on  association  of 
ideas.  A long  cystic  duct  was  interpreted  as  pointing  to 
long  life,  or  to  a long  reign ; the  swollen  gall-bladder,  to 
increase,  with  a further  differentiation  according  as  the 
swelling  appeared  on  the  right  side  or  on  the  left  side.  As 

49  From  this  point  of  view  the  protest  against  sacrifice  as  a divination  rite, 
embodied  in  the  ordinance  to  burn  the  ‘ flap  over  the  liver  ’ (the  processus  pyra- 
midalis), becomes  all  the  more  intelligible.  See  on  this  ordinance.  Professor  G.  F. 
Moore’s  paper  in  the  Noeldeke  Festschrift,  pp.  761  ff .,  and  the  note  by  the  writer  in 
Jastrow,  Religion,  2.  231. 

60  See  a paper  by  the  writer  on  ‘Divination  through  the  Liver  and  the  Begin- 
nings of  Anatomy’  (Transactions  of  the  College  of  Physicians,  29.  117-138). 


158 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


among  other  nations,  the  right  was  the  favorable,  and  the 
left  the  unfavorable  side.  A ‘doubled’  hepatic  duet  on  the 
right  side  indicated  assistance  from  the  gods,  a well  pre- 
served ‘finger’  (processus  pyramidalis)  meant  good  luck.  If 
the  hepatic  duct  lay  well  in  the  porta  hepatis  and  firmly 
attached  to  it,  the  omen  was  favorable ; if  loosely  attached 
or  separated  from  it,  unfavorable ; and  the  like.  It  will  be 
readily  seen  how  endless  the  variations  would  turn  out  to 
be.  No  two  livers  ever  presented  exactly  the  same  appear- 
ance, and  thus  in  the  course  of  time  a vast  collection  of  signs 
with  their  prognostications  were  gathered  by  the  priests  at- 
tached to  the  temples,  that  served  the  purpose  of  guides  or 
handbooks  to  determine  the  general  result  in  any  particular 
instance.  The  various  parts  of  the  liver1  and  all  the  mark- 
ings and  other  peculiarities  were  examined,  and  according 
as  tire  majority  of  them  proved  favorable  or  unfavorable,  a 
general  conclusion  was  drawn  as  to  whether  the  gods  were 
favorably  disposed  towards  any  proposed  undertaking,  or 
whether  the  moment  chosen  was  not  opportune. 

In  view  of  the  fact  to  which  attention  was  above  directed,51 
that  divination  through  the  liver  is  still  practised  among 
people  living  in  a primitive  state  of  culture,  the  conclusion 
is  warranted  that  the  Babylonian  system  is  based  on  the 
primitive  custom,  representing  an  elaboration  of  the  early 
popular  practice  brought  about  through  the  franl-priests. 
More  than  this,  it  was  because  of  the  perfection  of  this 
elaborate  system  that  the  rite  managed  to  survive  through- 
out the  phases  of  culture  through  which  the  Babylonians 
and  Assyrians  in  the  course  of  many  centuries  passed. 
From  the  earliest  period  down  to  the  days  of  the  last  king 
of  Babylonia,52  hepatoscopy  continued  in  force  as  the 
official  method  of  divining  the  future ; and  while  other 
methods  were  also  resorted  to,  none  equalled  in  importance 
and  scope  the  system  of  divination  through  the  liver. 

Outside  of  Babylonia,  the  most  significant  instance  of 
hepatoscopy  is  furnished  by  the  Etruscans,  among  whom 
likewise  an  elaborate  system  was  developed.  The  evidence 
for  this,  drawn  from  the  Latin  writers,  was  so  conclusive  as 


51  See  above,  p.  153  f. 


62  See  the  proof  in  Jastrow,  Religion,  2.  273  f. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


159 


to  lead  Bouche-Leclercq  thirty  years  ago  53  to  sum  up  the 
Etruscan  system  of  divination  as  “l’etude  du  foie  est  le  tout 
de  1’art.”  His  view  has  been  confirmed  by  later  students,54 
and  more  particularly  through  the  discovery  of  a bronze 
model  of  a liver  covered  with  Etruscan  inscriptions.55  This 
model  forms  a striking  companion  piece  to  a clay  model  of 
a liver  acquired  by  the  British  Museum  in  1891,  which 
dates,  as  the  writing  shows,  from  the  Hammurapi  period, 
i.e.  ca.  2000  b.c.56  Like  the  latter,  it  must  have  been  used 
as  an  object  lesson  in  hepatoscopy  for  the  instruction  of  the 
young  aspirants  to  the  priesthood.  In  both  models  the  chief 
parts  of  the  liver  are  indicated,  and  the  inscriptions  show 
that  the  liver  was  regarded  as  a means  of  divining  the 
future.  Further  evidence  that  the  liver  was  regarded  as 
the  organ  of  revelation  is  furnished  by  a monument  of  an 
Etruscan  augur,  who  holds  a liver  in  his  hand  as  his  trade 
mark.57  We  have,  therefore,  the  proof  that  among  the 
Etruscans  likewise  the  belief  which  placed  the  seat  of  the 
soul  in  the  liver  survived  up  to  the  advanced  period  when 
the  primitive  method  of  divining  through  the  liver  was  de- 
veloped into  a system,  and  taught  to  the  priests  as  an  integral 
part  of  their  training. 

It  is  generally  admitted  that  the  Romans  adopted  their 
methods  of  divination  from  the  Etruscans,  as  is  shown  by 
the  fact  that  the  augurs  in  Rome  and  those  who  accom- 
panied the  Roman  armies  on  their  expeditions  were  almost 
invariably  from  Etruria.58  That  among  the  Romans  like- 
wise divination  was  at  first  restricted  to  the  liver  is  attested 
by  the  notice  in  Pliny,  that  at  the  time  Pyrrhus  was  driven 
from  Italy,  corresponding  to  the  year  274  b.c.,  the  heart  was 
for  the  first  time  used  as  a means  of  divining  the  future.59 
The  conclusion  is  therefore  warranted  that  up  to  this  period 

53  Histoire  de  la  Divination  dans  l’Antiquite,  4.  69  (Paris,  1877). 

54  See  especially  Tkulin,  Die  Etruskische  Disciplin,  2.  20  f.  (Goteburg,  1905). 

55  Korte,  “Die  Bronzeleber  von  Piacenza,”  in  Mitteilungen  des  kaiserlichen 

deutschen  archaologischen  Instituts  (Romische  Abteilung),  20.  348-379.  It  dates 
from  about  the  third  century  b.c.  56  Cuneiform  Texts,  etc..  Part  vi,  PI.  1. 

57  See  the  illustration  in  Korte’s  paper,  PI.  XIV;  also  in  Blecher,  De  Extispicio, 
Tab.  Ill,  fig.  2. 

68  Cicero,  De  Divinatione,  i.  41,  who  also  tells  us  that  it  was  customary  to 
send  the  children  of  the  principal  senators  to  Etruscan  tribes  to  be  instructed  in 
divination.  59  Hist.  Nat.,  Book  xi.  § 71. 


160 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


the  liver  alone  was  examined ; and  the  fact  that  in  the  omens 
referred  to  by  the  Latin  writers  it  is  the  liver  that  is  in  most 
cases  mentioned,  bears  out  the  conclusion. 

A most  interesting  passage  is  to  be  found  in  the  eleventh 
book  of  Pliny  (§  73),  devoted  to  a description  of  the  various 
organs  and  parts  of  the  body  of  animals.  “The  liver,”  says 
Pliny,  “lies  on  the  right  side,  and  that  part  of  it  which  is 
called  the  head  (caput) 60  presents  a great  variety.”  At  the 
time  of  the  death  of  Marcell  us,  who  perished  in  the  conflict 
against  Hannibal,  it  was  missing  among  the  exta.  On  the 
following  day  (in  connection  with  the  sacrifice)  a double 
caput  appeared.  The  caput  was  missing  also  at  a sacrifice 
which  C.  Marius  brought  at  Utica,  likewise  in  the  case  of 
Gaius  on  the  first  of  January  of  the  year  in  which  he  entered 
upon  the  consulate  and  during  which  he  was  killed,  and  again 
in  the  case  of  his  successor  Claudius  in  the  month  in  which 
he  was  poisoned.61  When  the  Emperor  Augustus  on  the 
first  day  of  his  rule  offered  up  victims,  the  livers  were  found 
folded  (replicata)  from  the  lower  end  (fibra).  The  omen 
was  interpreted  as  pointing  to  a ‘duplication’  of  the  extent 
of  his  power  within  the  year.  ‘If  the  head  is  split,’  we  are 
told,  it  is  always  a bad  sign,  except  when  one  is  in  trouble 
and  pain.  In  such  cases  it  indicates  a removal  of  the  evil. 
Pliny  refers  also  to  the  use  of  the  gall-bladder  for  purposes 
of  divination,  and  mentions  that  on  the  day  of  Augustus’s 
victory  at  Actium,  a double  gall-bladder  was  found  in  the 
sacrificial  victim. 

Livy  has  many  passages  in  which  he  refers  to  the  exta 
examined  on  various  occasions,62  but  the  only  specific  indi- 
cations furnished  by  him  are  in  reference  to  signs  on  the  liver. 
So  e.g.  in  the  27th  book  of  his  History  he  gives  a detailed 
account  of  the  death  of  Marcellus,  and  in  agreement  with 
Pliny  states  that  at  the  first  inspection  the  ‘head  of  the  liver’ 
(caput  jocineris)  was  missing,  and  that  in  the  case  of  the 
victim  on  the  following  day  the  ‘head’  appeared  doubled.63 

60  The  processus  pyramidalis,  which  in  Greek  hepatoscopy  is  designated  as 
6 \o/3os.  See  below  p.  162,  note  71,  and  above,  note  49. 

61  Other  examples  of  this  omen  are  given  by  Andry,  loc.  cit.,  p.  245  f. 

62  See  the  passages  in  Blecher,  De  Extispicio,  pp.  11-14. 

63  Book  xxvii.  26.  See  also  Valerius  Maximus,  Memorabilia,  i.  6.  9 ; Plutarch, 
Marcellus,  § 29. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


161 


On  another  occasion,  when  Q.  Petilius  sacrificed  a victim, 
the  ‘head’  of  the  liver  was  missing,64  and  the  same  phenome- 
non is  noted  by  him  at  other  inspections.65  Similarly  Julius 
Obsequens  specifies  in  four  instances  mentioned  by  him 
that  the  ‘head’  of  the  liver  was  not  found,66  and  onty  in  one 
case  does  he  refer  to  the  heart.67  It  would  appear,  there- 
fore, that  even  after  the  inspection  of  other  organs  — nota- 
bly the  heart  — was  added  to  that  of  the  liver,  chief  attention 
was  still  paid  to  the  signs  on  the  liver  — an  indication  that 
hepatoscopy  was  at  one  time  the  prevailing  method  of  div- 
ination among  the  Romans,  as  among  the  Etruscans  and 
Babylonians.  The  addition  of  the  heart  to  the  liver  corre- 
sponds manifestly  to  the  time  when,  instead  of  regarding  the 
liver  as  the  seat  of  vitality,  the  heart  was  accorded  this  dis- 
tinction ; and  this  change  reflected  no  doubt  the  progress 
in  anatomical  knowledge,  through  which  the  important 
functions  of  the  heart  were  more  clearly  recognized.  Andry 
has  shown  that  everywhere  the  investigation  of  the  anatomy 
of  the  heart  is  later  than  the  knowledge  of  the  functions  of 
the  liver.  With  the  addition,  however,  of  the  examination 
of  the  heart  to  that  of  the  liver,  the  theoretical  basis  upon 
which  hepatoscopy  rested,  namely  the  belief  that  the  liver 
was  the  seat  of  the  soul,  was  lost  sight  of.  With  the  modi- 
fication of  this  belief  through  the  tr  msference  of  the  seat  to 
the  heart,  the  rationale  of  hepatoscopy  disappeared.  Con- 
sistency would  have  demanded  that  heart  divination  should 
take  the  place  of  liver  divination.  By  retaining  the  latter 
and  adding  to  the  examination  of  the  liver  that  of  the  heart, 
a compromise  with  advancing  anatomical  science  was  ef- 
fected, with  the  fatal  result,  however,  of  changing  the  rite 
into  a meaningless  superstition.  To  this  period,  after  the 
disappearance  of  the  theoretical  basis  of  hepatoscopy,  be- 
longs the  general  term  exta,  which  is  invariably  used  by  the 
Latin  writers  when  referring  to  divination  through  a sacrifi- 
cial animal.  Through  the  analysis  here  given  we  can  now 
understand  why,  despite  the  employment  of  the  general 
term,  it  is  not  the  ‘entrails,’  as  is  generally  assumed  by 

64  Book  xli.  14.  66  Book  xli.  15.  66  De  Prodigiis  (ed.  Rossbach),  17,  35,  47,  55. 

67  § 67,  on  the  occasion  when  Caesar  was  invested.  See  also  Cicero,  De  Divina- 
tione,  i.  119. 


162 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


investigators,  that  were  the  subject  of  examination,  but  pri- 
marily, even  to  the  latest  clays,  the  liver,  and  by  the  side  of 
the  liver,  in  the  first  place  the  heart,  and  then  the  lungs, 
and  occasionally  the  milt.68  The  term  exta  was  merely  in- 
troduced as  a general  one,  to  embrace  the  entire  scope. 

Similarly,  in  the  Greek  writers  we  encounter  a general 
term  lepa  or  lepela,  ‘the  sacred  parts,’ 69  used  for  divination 
through  a sacrificial  animal.  And  yet,  as  a matter  of  fact, 
when  we  examine  the  passages  in  which  specific  instances  of 
such  divination  are  given,  it  is  again  the  liver  or  parts  of 
the  liver  that  are  almost  invariably  mentioned.  So  e.g. 
the  messenger  in  the  Electra  of  Euripides,  describing  how 
Orestes  stole  upon  iEgisthos,  as  the  latter  was  bending  over 
the  lepa  of  the  sacred  victim  to  ascertain  what  the  signs 
portended,  says : 70 

Holding  the  sacred  parts  in  his  hands 

/Egisthos  examined ; and  there  was  no  lobe  71 
To  the  entrails  ; 72  the  gate 73  and  the  bag  of  the  gall-bladder  black. 
Portending  evil  prognostications  to  the  one  examining  (them). 

Similarly,  when  /Eschylus  describes  the  benefits  conferred 
by  Prometheus  on  mankind,  the  art  of  divination  through 
the  flight  of  birds  and  through  the  sacrificial  victim  is  prom- 
inently mentioned  ; ar.d  although  in  the  description  of  the 
latter  method  the  general  term  airXa^va,  ‘entrails,’  is 
employed,  the  specific  organ  referred  to  is  the  liver,74 

68  See  Thulin,  Die  Etruskische  Disciplin.  2.  23. 

69  See  the  passages  in  Bleeker,  De  Extispicio,  pp.  3-11.  70  Lines  826-829. 

71  The  lobe  par  excellence  in  Greek  hepatoscopy  is  the  finger-shaped  appendix 
known  as  the  processus  pyramidalis,  corresponding  to  the  caput  jecoris  (or  jocineris), 
‘ head  of  the  liver,’  in  Roman  hepatoscopy.  See  above,  p.  160.  This  term  6 Xo/3os  is 
employed  in  the  Greek  translation  of  the  Pentateuch  for  the  Hebrew  equivalent 
of  the  ‘ processus  pyramidalis  ' (see  above,  p.  157,  note  19),  an  interesting  indication 
that  the  translators  were  familiar  with  the  terminology  of  Greek  hepatoscopy. 
This  ‘appendix’  is  described  in  Nicander,  Theriaca,  559  f.,  as  “the  top  lobe  growing 
from  the  table  (i.e.,  the  lobus  caudatus),  and  bending  over  near  the  gall-bladder 
and  the  gate  (porta  hepatis).” 

72  iTTrXayx  ra,  a general  term  corresponding  to  the  Latin  exta,  but  evidently  in- 
tended in  passages  like  this  for  the  liver. 

73  ir'jKa.L,  the  designation  of  the  depression  between  the  upper  lobe  (lobus 
caudatus)  of  the  liver  and  the  left  lower  lobe  (lobus  sinister).  The  term  still  sur- 
vives in  modern  anatomical  nomenclature,  which  designates  this  part  of  the  liver  as 
the  porta  hepatis,  ‘ gate  of  the  liver.’  See  Jastrow,  Religion  (German  ed.),  2.  220. 

74  Prometheus,  lines  495-499. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


163 


The  entrails’  smoothness, 

what  color  would  be  pleasing  to  the  gods, 

the  well-proportioned  shape  of  the  gall  and  lobe.'5 

Particularly  significant  in  this  respect  is  the  testimony 
of  Xenophon,  who  in  his  various  writings  has  frequent 
references  to  omens,  derived  from  the  examination  of  the 
victim.76  He  contents  himself  in  all  but  two  passages  with 
the  general  term  iepa,  and  in  these  passages  77  he  specifies 
that  “the  liver  was  without  a lobe,”  which  was  regarded  as 
unfavorable.  The  same  inauspicious  omen  is  mentioned  by 
Plutarch  in  connection  with  an  incident  in  the  campaign  of 
Alexander  against  Babylonia.  Upon  being  told  by  Pytha- 
goras, the  diviner,  that  the  lobe  of  the  victim’s  liver  was 
lacking,  Alexander  exclaimed,  “Alas,  the  omen  is  terrible.”  78 
Great  stress  is  laid  upon  the  same  omen  in  Arrian’s  account 
of  this  campaign  of  Alexander.79  Plutarch  in  the  life  of 
Aratus  (§  43)  refers  to  the  appearance  of  a “ double  gall- 
bladder, enclosed  in  one  bag,”  a phenomenon  that  is  not  in- 
frequent in  the  case  of  diseased  livers  of  sheep.  The  omen 
was  interpreted  as  foreshadowing  a covenant  that  Aratus 
would  make  with  his  greatest  enemy,80  and  the  same  Plutarch 
recounts  81  how  the  death  of  one  of  his  relatives  was  an- 
nounced to  Pyrrhus  by  a diviner  because  of  the  absence  of 
the  lobe  of  the  liver  on  the  occasion  of  a sacrifice.  Thus 
it  is  always  some  part  of  the  liver  or  some  mark  on  the  liver 
that  is  specified  whenever  divination  through  a sacrificial 
victim  is  spoken  of  in  Greek  writers.  There  does  not  in  fact 
appear  to  be  a single  passage  in  which  any  other  organ 

75  I.e.  again  the  processus  pyramidalis. 

76  E.g.,  Anabasis,  i.  8.  15;  ii.  2.  3;  v.  2.  9 ; 4.  22;  6.  2S;  vi.  2.  15;  4.  9;  4.  13; 
4.  16;  4.  17;  4.  19;  5.  2;  vii.  6.  44;  8.  10;  Hellenica,  iii.  1.  17;  3.4;  4.  15;  iv. 
4.  5 ; 7.  7 ; 8.  36 ; Cyropasdia,  ii.  4.  18. 

77  Hellenica,  iii.  4.  15;  iv.  7.  7.  78  Life  of  Alexander,  § 73. 

79  Arrian,  Anabasis,  vii.  18.  2-5.  Four  instances  are  cited. 

80  By  a natural  association  of  ideas  the  ‘double’  gall-bladder  in  one  bag  is 
interpreted  as  referring  to  a close  union.  Aratus  — so  the  narrative  proceeds  — 
soon  thereafter  was  invited  to  a feast  by  his  former  enemy  Antigonus,  to  whom 
he  had  been  reconciled.  Aratus  felt  cold,  and  a slave  covered  him  and  Antigonus 
with  the  same  garment  — corresponding,  therefore,  to  the  double  gall-bladder  in 
a single  bag.  “Aratus,”  Plutarch  adds,  “remembered  the  omen,  burst  out  laugh- 
ing, and  told  the  king  about  the  sacrifice  and  the  prophecy.” 

81  Life  of  Pyrrhus,  § 30.  Plutarch  adds  that  Pyrrhus,  disregarding  or  oblivious 
of  the  omen,  sent  his  son  Ptolemy  into  the  battle,  and  the  latter  was  killed. 


164 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


than  the  liver  is  specified ; and  the  practical  synonymity 
of  TjTrap,  ‘liver,’  and  (jTv\d^va , ‘entrails,’  follows  also  from 
a passage  in  Pausanias  (vi.  2.  4),  where  he  describes  a dog, 
“cut  in  two,  like  a sacrificial  victim,  with  his  liver  exposed,” 
lying  next  to  the  statue  of  Thrasybulos,  and  immediately 
thereafter  speaks  of  the  rite  of  divination  through  the 
‘entrails’  of  dogs,  which  appears  (he  suggests)  to  have  been 
established  by  Thrasybulos. 

The  conclusion,  therefore,  is  justified  in  the  case  of  the 
Greeks,  as  in  that  of  the  Romans,  that  divination  through 
the  sacrificial  animal  was  at  one  time  restricted  to  the  use 
of  the  liver  of  the  animal ; and  since  we  have  no  direct  evi- 
dence that  the  Greeks  inspected  also  the  heart  and  lungs, 
the  term  ‘sacred  parts’  may  have  been  introduced  to  in- 
clude the  gall-bladder,  the  various  lobes  and  ducts  which 
might  appropriately  have  been  grouped  together,  as  iepa 
or  lepela,  while  the  vague  term  aTrXdy^va  may  also  have 
been  intended  — at  least  originally  — to  embrace  the  same 
parts. 

That  there  is  some  connection  between  Babylonian  and 
Greek  hepatoscopy  is  generally  taken  for  granted  by 
scholars,  but  it  is  still  a question  open  to  discussion  whether 
the  Greeks  obtained  their  method  directly  from  the  Baby- 
lonians or  through  the  mediation  of  the  Etruscans.  If,  as 
seems  probable,  the  Etruscans  came  from  Asia  Minor,  they 
may  well  have  left  traces  of  their  influence  upon  the  Greek 
settlements  near  the  coast,  who  in  turn  may  have  carried 
the  rite  across  to  Hellas.  Clay  models  of  livers,  similar  to 
the  one  above  referred  to,82  have  been  found  recently  at 
Boghaz-Keui,83  — the  ancient  centre  of  a Hittite  empire, — 
testifying  to  the  existence  of  the  rite  of  hepatoscopy  at  an 
early  period  in  the  very  district  from  which  the  Etruscans 
may  have  come.  We  thus  obtain  an  uninterrupted  chain 
of  Babylonian  influence,  embracing  Etruscans,  Greeks,  and 
Romans,  as  well  as  Hittites.  We  have  also  the  definite 
proof,  furnished  through  the  prevalence  of  hepatoscopy 
among  all  these  groups,  of  the  widespread  character  of  the 

82  Page  159.  The  University  of  Penn.  Museum  also  has  such  a model. 

83  The  Berlin  Museum  has  three  such  clay  models  with  Babylonian  inscriptions 
in  which  the  same  technical  terms  occur  as  in  the  Babylonian  ‘liver’  texts. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


165 


theory  on  which  the  rite  rested,  and  through  which  it  finds 
an  explanation,  to  wit,  the  belief  that  the  liver  was  the  seat 
of  the  soul.84 

V 

The  transition  to  more  rational  views  regarding  the  liver 
which  followed  in  the  wake  of  advancing  anatomical  knowl- 
edge is  illustrated  by  the  statement  of  Vitruvius  (De  Archi- 
tectura,  i.  18)  that  it  was  customary  before  settling  in  a 
region  to  examine  the  livers  of  animals  in  the  district.  If 
the  livers  were  found  diseased,  it  was  an  indication  that  the 
locality  was  unhealthful.  We  may  be  certain  that  originally 
the  animal  was  slaughtered  as  an  offering  to  secure  the  favor 
of  the  local  deity,  and  that  the  liver  was  inspected  for  signs 
to  ascertain  whether  the  genius  loci  would  look  with  favor 
upon  the  proposed  settlement.  The  transformation  of  the 
old  divination  rite  into  a hygienic  measure  represents  an  at- 
tempt at  a rationalistic  interpretation,  which  is  so  frequently 
the  last  resort  to  justify  a custom  that  has  outlived  itself. 
The  statement  of  Vitruvius  reminds  one  of  the  attempts 
to  explain  the  food  taboos  in  the  Pentateuch  al  codes  as  hy- 
gienic measures.  That  some  of  these  may  be  hygienic  may 
be  admitted,  but  we  may  be  equally  certain  that  their  basis 
is  not  hygienic,  and  that  they  are  survivals  of  primitive  be- 
liefs. In  primitive  religions  precautions  are  prescribed  to 
protect  oneself  from  the  saliva  of  an  enemy  or  a sorcerer, 
for  fear  that  it  might  be  used  as  a spell.  In  order  to  protect 
people  from  germs  of  disease,  modern  boards  of  health 
also  pass  ordinances  against  spitting,  but  as  a recent  writer 
says,  “The  order  of  thinking  in  which  the  one  fear  finds 
a place  is  centuries  apart  from  that  of  the  other.”85  He 
might  have  said  milleniums. 

Old  beliefs,  like  old  rites,  die  hard,  and  both  pass  through 

84  It  may  be  of  interest  to  note  the  following  instance  of  divination  through  the 
liver  in  our  own  country.  Dr.  Haddon  informs  me  that  when  the  colony  of 
Igorrotes  (of  the  Philippine  Islands),  who  had  been  taken  from  place  to  place  for 
exhibition  purposes  after  the  St.  Louis  Exposition,  were  informed  that  they  would 
soon  be  sent  back  to  their  homes,  they  killed  a pig  and  inspected  the  liver,  in  order 
to  ascertain  whether  the  day  selected  for  the  beginning  of  the  homeward  journey 
was  an  auspicious  one.  This  inspection  took  place  in  Chicago  in  1901. 

86  Joseph  Jastrow  in  Hampton’s  Magazine,  October,  1910,  p.  418. 


166 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


many  transformations  before  they  finally  disappear.  The 
thesis  of  Hippocrates  above  referred  to,86  that  the  liver  was 
the  seat  of  the  blood,  or,  as  he  also  puts  it,  the  starting-point 
of  the  veins,  is  put  forward  as  a scientific  theory,  but  it  would 
not  have  arisen  had  not  the  liver  once  been  regarded  as  the 
seat  of  vitality.  In  so  far,  Hippocrates  is  still  under  the  in- 
fluence of  primitive  views,  though  he  already  foreshadows 
the  new  age  in  assigning  disease  to  four  sources  : to  the  brain, 
to  the  heart,  to  the  spleen,  and  to  the  liver,  the  most  prom- 
inent place,  however,  being  accorded  to  the  liver.87  Galen, 
four  centuries  after  Hippocrates,  betrays  the  same  influence 
in  making  the  liver  the  seat  of  the  bodily  heat,  a view  closely 
allied  to  that  of  making  that  organ  the  seat  of  the  blood. 
Such  survivals  are  the  less  surprising,  if  it  be  borne  in  mind 
that  Galen  still  believed  in  dreams  as  well  as  in  sorcery  and 
charms.  In  fact,  he  tells  us  that  he  was  prompted  to  the 
study  of  medicine  through  a dream  that  his  father  had. 
But  perhaps  the  most  interesting  illustration  of  the  hold 
which  the  old  view  regarding  the  liver  as  the  seat  of  the  soul 
continued  to  exercise,  long  after  the  absurdity  of  its  rationale 
had  been  recognized,  is  furnished  by  Plato,  who  so  often 
surprises  11s  by  his  compromising  endeavors  to  pour  old  wine 
into  new  bottles.  He  assigns  to  the  heart  and  not  to  the 
liver  the  distinction  of  being  the  starting-point  of  the  veins, 
and  he  recognizes  the  functions  of  the  brain  as  well  as  those 
of  the  heart ; but  yielding  to  the  temptation  to  find  a justifica- 
tion for  the  prominence  once  accorded  to  the  liver,  he  sets 
forth  in  the  Timteus  88  the  theory  that  man  has  two  souls  — 
an  inferior  or  mortal  soul,  by  the  side  of  a superior  and 
immortal  soul  that  comes  direct  from  the  Creator.  He 
places  the  seat  of  the  lower  functions,  as  eating,  drinking, 
and  the  satisfaction  of  other  bodily  needs,  between  the  mid- 
riff and  the  navel,  “ contriving,”  to  quote  Jowett’s  transla- 
tion,89 “in  all  this  region  a sort  of  manger  for  the  food  of 
the  body ; and  there  they  (i.e.  the  gods)  bound  the  desires 
down  as  a wild  animal  which  was  chained  up  with  man,  and 
must  be  nourished,  if  man  was  to  exist.”  In  this  inferior 

86  See  above,  p.  152.  87  Andry,  p.  237  f.  88  Tim.,  69-72. 

89  Dialogues  of  Plato,  2.  562. 


MORRIS  JASTROW,  JR. 


167 


soul,  however,  God  framed  the  liver  to  act  as  a kind  of 
transmitter  to  the  lower  soul  of  that  which  originates  in  the 
mind.  The  liver  reflects  the  thought  “as  in  a mirror  which 
receives  and  gives  back  images  to  the  sight.”  Through  the 
liver  a means  of  divination  is  given  to  mankind,  “for  the 
authors  of  our  being,  remembering  the  command  of  their 
father  when  he  bade  them  make  the  human  race  as  good  as 
they  could,  thus  ordered  our  inferior  parts  in  order  that  they 
too  might  obtain  a measure  of  truth,  and  in  the  liver  placed 
their  oracle,  which  is  sufficient  proof  that  God  has  given  the 
art  of  divination  to  the  foolishness  of  man.  . . . Such  is 
the  nature  and  position  of  the  liver,  which  is  intended  to 
give  prophetic  intimations.  During  the  life  of  each  indi- 
vidual these  intimations  are  plainer,  but  after  his  death  the 
liver  becomes  blind,  and  delivers  oracles  too  obscure  to  be 
intelligible.” 

Plato  seems  to  be  making  a polemic  against  divination 
through  the  liver  in  the  case  of  slaughtered  animals  (when 
the  liver  is  ‘blind’),  but  on  the  other  hand  he  also  appears  to 
make  a concession  to  the  prevailing  rites,  by  admitting  that 
the  liver  is  an  organ  of  divination. 

Jowett  says  of  the  Timseus  90  that  of  all  the  writings  of 
Plato  it  is  “the  most  obscure  and  repulsive  to  the  modern 
reader,”  and  scholars  are  not  agreed  exactly  what  position 
to  accord  to  the  Timaeus  in  Plato’s  system  of  philosophy ; 
but  so  much  seems  certain,  that  he  endeavored  in  this  treatise 
to  give  to  ancient  myths  and  popular  beliefs  and  traditions 
a rational  interpretation,  though  with  doubtful  success. 
The  higher  and  better  part  of  the  mortal  soul  he  places  above 
the  diaphragm,  and  assigns  the  seat  of  nobler  emotions,  as 
love  and  courage,  to  the  heart ; while  the  brain,  the  seat  of 
the  intellect,  and  exercising  the  highest  functions,  is  the  place 
of  the  immortal  soul.  The  passions  and  all  of  the  lower 
emotions,  such  as  jealousy  and  cowardice,  are  thus  made 
to  originate  in  the  liver  as  the  centre  of  the  inferior  phase 
of  the  lower  or  mortal  soul. 

The  interesting  point  for  us  in  this  intellectual  gymnastics 
is  the  transition  that  it  foreshadows  to  the  views  still  popu- 
larly held. 


90  Dialogues  of  Plato,  2.  455. 


168 


THE  LIVER  AS  THE  SEAT  OF  THE  SOUL 


Current  usage,  without  attempting  to  justify  its  position 
on  scientific  grounds,  still  divides,  as  did  Plato,  the  chief 
manifestations  of  human  action  among  the  three  organs, 
the  brain,  the  heart,  and  the  liver,  thought  being  associated 
with  the  brain,  the  higher  emotions  with  the  heart,  and  the 
lower  ones  with  the  liver — “‘Liver,  brain,  and  heart,  these 
sovereign  thrones.”  91  Plato  also  foreshadows  the  very  un- 
favorable view  taken  of  the  liver  in  popular  fancy,  justified 
only  to  a limited  extent  by  physiological  considerations. 
Ill -humor,  bad  temper,  and  moroseness,  as  well  as  all  manner 
of  disagreeable  manifestations  of  a crabbed  disposition,  are 
popularly  ascribed  to  the  liver,  though  most  persons  who 
show  these  unpleasant  traits  have  very  healthy  livers,  and 
a disordered  stomach  or  a bad  headache  is  apt  to  produce 
the  same  effects  on  one’s  mood  as  a torpid  liver.  Nothing 
that  can  be  said  against  the  liver  seems  too  bad,  and  the 
popular  conception  of  it  is  well  illustrated  in  an  announce- 
ment of  a London  newspaper,  that  commends  itself  to  the 
public  by  advertising  that  it  is  “all  brain  and  heart,  but  no 
liver.”  One  cannot  help  feeling  a pang  of  sympathy  for  the 
liver,  that  to  the  ancients  spelled  life,  and  now  is  associated 
only  with  what  is  least  commendable  and  desirable  in  life. 
To  call  a man  ‘white-livered’  is  among  us  a term  of  re- 
proach, whereas  in  Babylonia  it  might  have  been  the  phrase 
to  convey  all  that  is  implied  in  the  colloquial  expression,  a 
‘ white  ’ man  — pure,  virtuous,  of  superior  intellect  — in 
short  a noble  and  rare  soul,  as  among  the  Arabs  a white 
heart  is  a pure  heart.92 

91  Twelfth  Night,  act  I,  scene  1.  See  also  Cymbeline,  act  V,  scene  1,  “Liver, 
heart,  and  brain  of  Britain.” 

92  Andry,  p.  5,  gives  an  instance  of  the  same  usage  among  the  Kafirs. 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


Maurice  Bloomfield 
Johns  Hopkins  University 

Every  attempt  to  describe  or  analyze  any  one  of  the 
many  later  varieties  of  Hindu  religion  meets  with  the  same 
standard  difficulty,  namely,  the  difficulty  of  differentiating. 
From  the  time  of  the  Upanishads  on,  India  is  axiomatically 
monistic  or  pantheistic.  In  Buddhism  the  All-Spirit  has  faded 
out  into  a blank,  but  we  can  tell  the  precise  spot  where  once 
stood  the  conception  of  the  True  One  that  hath  no  Second, 
the  Brahma.  His  mighty  shadow  hovers  over  Buddha’s 
agnostic  teaching.1  It  is  even  difficult  to  point  out  what  Bud- 
dhism can  accomplish  that  may  not  be  equally  well  accom- 
plished by  Brahmanism  (Vedanta)  in  its  highest  moods. 
All  Hindu  religion,  at  its  best,  is  spiritual,  is  directed  towards 
emancipating  the  individual  ego  from  an  illusory,  negligible 
world.  No  higher  Hindu  religion  is,  or  indeed  can  be,  ac- 
tuated by  any  communistic  or  national  ideal,  nor  by  any 
other  ideal  that  we  are  accustomed  to  consider  practical. 
The  doctrines  of  the  late  sect  of  the  Sikhs  or  ‘Disciples’ 
are  no  exception  to  the  universal  Hinduism  of  all  native  re- 
ligious thought  in  India.  It  comes,  therefore,  as  a surprise, 
when  we  read  in  a recent  comprehensive  work  on  this  re- 
ligion, that  “it  would  be  difficult  to  point  to  a religion  of 
greater  originality,  or  to  a more  comprehensive  ethical 
system.”  Sikh  religion  is  not  original,  but  universally  Hindu. 
Its  ethics,  like  those  of  all  higher  Hindu  religions,  are  inci- 
dental, because  the  supreme  conception  of  Hinduism  is 
really  removed  from  quality,  good,  bad,  or  indifferent.  At 
the  best  the  new  thing  in  Sikhism  is,  as  we  shall  see,  its  shift 
of  attitude,  both  positively  and  negatively,  towards  certain 

1 Cf.  the  story  of  Malukya  or  Malunkyaputta  in  Majjhima-Nikaya,  63. 

169 


170 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


of  the  ancient  Hindu  institutions,  and  the  attunement,  to 
some  extent,  of  the  universal  Hindu  gospel  of  resignation  or 
despair  to  the  most  necessary  requirements  of  national  exist- 
ence, at  a time  when  national  existence  was  in  danger  of 
being  wiped  out  by  Mohammedanism. 

The  work  referred  to  is  that  of  M.  A.  Macauliffe,  The 
Sikh  Religion,  six  volumes,  published  by  the  Oxford  (Claren- 
don) Press,  in  1909.  Mr.  Macauliffe  devoted  twenty  years 
of  obviously  loving  study  to  his  subject,  part  of  the  time 
while  engaged  in  judicial  duties  in  India,  and  part  after 
resigning  his  post  for  the  very  purpose  of  carrying  on  his 
Sikh  studies  more  undisturbedly.  He  spent  many  years 
among  the  Sikhs,  and  with  them  studied  their  sacred  texts. 
His  work  consists  in  the  main  of  the  lives  of  the  ten  Gurus 
(Teachers  or  Pontiffs),  beginning  with  Nanak  and  ending 
with  Govind  Singh,  and  a translation  of  their  prayers, 
hymns,  and  acrostics,  as  contained  in  the  Granth  Sahib  or 
‘Holy  Bible.’  To  these  are  added  the  biographies  of  the 
so-called  Bhagats  (Sanskrit  Bhagavat),  or  Hindu  reformers 
before  Nanak.  The  Granth  is  written  not  in  one  language, 
but  in  many : Old  Hindi,  Mahratthi,  Panjabi,  Multani, 
and  to  some  extent  even  in  Persian.  Sound  philological 
basis  for  the  study  of  Sikhism  is  wanting,  so  long  as  there  are 
no  editions,  by  competent  hands,  at  least  of  the  texts  of  the 
Adi-Granth,  or  ‘Original  Bible,’  which  was  compiled  by  the 
fifth  Guru,  Arjan  (1581-1616).  Arjan  gathered  carefully 
the  religious  poems  of  his  predecessors  in  the  pontificate, 
adding  to  them  a rich  anthology  from  the  sayings  of  the 
Bhagats,  — men  like  Kabir,  Namdev,  Ravidas,  and  even  the 
Persians,  Farid  and  Bhikan.  The  Granth  contains  the  wise 
sayings  of  fourteen  of  these  Bhagats.  Even  a perfervid 
poem  by  a princess  of  the  name  of  Mira  Bai,  full  of  mystic 
love  (bhakti)  of  God  in  the  form  of  Krishna,  has  found  a 
place  in  the  collection. 

On  the  whole  and  in  the  main,  Mr.  Macauliffe’s  work  im- 
presses one  as  a reliable  account  of  Sikhism  as  the  Sikhs  see 
it  — that,  but  nothing  more.  The  quasi-historical  accounts 
of  the  Gurus  are  based  upon  zealot  Sikh  sources  full  of  fond 
and  unbridled  fancies.  By  every  token  these  lives  of  the 
Gurus  are  legendary,  fantastic,  and  largely  incredible.  Also 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


171 


as  regards  the  interpretation  of  the  poetry  and  religious 
thought  of  the  Granth,  I am  sure  that  something  will  have 
to  be  deducted  on  account  of  the  author’s  compulsory  re- 
liance on  the  old  Gyanis,  or  professional  interpreters,  who 
are  now  dying  out.  The  traditional  translations  (sampardai 
arths=  Sanskrit  sampradaya-artha)  of  the  present  day  must 
have  about  the  same  value  as  the  traditional  interpretations 
of  other  ancient  Hindu  religious  texts.  Mr.  Maeauliffe 
remarks  that  he  met  so-called  Gyanis  who  could  perform 
tours  de  force  with  their  sacred  writings,  and  give  different 
interpretations  of  almost  every  line  of  it.  As  regards  his 
own  renderings,  he  remarks,  that  “when  second  and  third 
interpretations  seemed  possible,  they  have  been  appended 
in  the  notes.”  Decidedly  this  reminds  us  of  the  Sayanas, 
Madhavas,  and  their  ilk.  Sikh  philology  of  the  remoter 
future  will  gratefully  remember  Mr.  Macauliffe’s  work,  but 
it  will  remember  it  as  a great  work  of  orientation  rather  than 
a critical  analysis  of  Sikh  teachings  or  an  unprejudiced  his- 
tory of  the  development  of  the  Sikh  nation. 

Sikhism  arose  in  the  north  of  India  during  the  period  of 
its  greatest  oppression  by  the  Mohammedan  (Mogul)  con- 
querors. Nanak,  the  first  Sikh  prophet,  seems  to  have  been 
imprisoned  and  made  to  work  as  a slave  by  Emperor  Babar. 
He  speaks  of  his  times  as  follows : 

This  age  is  a knife,  kings  are  butchers ; justice  hath  taken  wings  and 
fled. 

The  fifth  Guru,  Arjan,  was  tortured  to  death  by  Emperor 
Jahangir  partly  on  account  of  his  religion,  and  partly  because 
he  had  extended  hospitality  to  Jahangir’s  rebellious  son 
Khusrau.  In  his  defence  the  Guru  said  : “ I regard  all  people, 
whether  rich  or  poor,  friend  or  foe,  without  love  or  hate ; 
and  it  is  on  this  account  that  I gave  thy  son  some  money  for 
his  journey,  and  not  because  he  was  in  opposition  to  thee. 
If  I had  not  assisted  him  in  his  forlorn  condition,  and  so 
shown  some  regard  for  the  kindness  of  thy  father,  the  Em- 
peror Akbar,  to  myself,  all  men  would  despise  me  for  my 
heartlessness  and  ingratitude,  or  would  say  that  I was  afraid 
of  thee.  This  would  have  been  unworthy  of  a follower  of 
Guru  Nanak,  the  world’s  Guru.” 


172 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


The  bloody  Emperor  Aurangzeb  slew  his  own  brother 
Darah  Shukoh,  that  enlightened  prince  to  whom  we  owe 
the  Persian  translation  of  the  Hindu  Upanishads,  the  so- 
called  Oupnekhats.  He  also  caused  the  death  of  the  ninth 
Guru,  Teg  Bahadur,  persecuted  the  tenth  and  last  Guru, 
Govind  Singh,  and  brought  about  the  death  of  his  four 
sons.  Then  ended  the  spiritual  dynasty  of  the  Gurus. 

Nanak,  the  originator  and  first  Guru  of  Sikhism,  was  born 
a.d.  1469.  At  that  time  about  one-third  of  the  population 
of  Northern  India  had  become  Moslem.  Mohammedan 
monotheism,  through  its  abhorrence  of  idol-worship,  had 
shaken  the  complicated  and  abased  forms  of  lower  Hinduism ; 
had  attracted  the  lower  classes  of  the  population,  who  could, 
through  it,  free  themselves  from  the  oppression  and  degra- 
dation of  caste ; and  had  introduced  into  the  pantheistic 
ideal  of  higher  Hinduism  a strong  dash  of  monotheism,  which 
promoted  its  own  marked  inclination  in  the  same  direction. 
In  practice,  however,  both  Hinduism  and  Mohammedanism 
were  effete  religions,  despised  by  many  religious  thinkers 
who  preceded  Nanak.  One  of  the  hymns  of  the  Bhagat 
Kabir  (born  a.d.  1398)  satirizes  Hindu  practices : 

If  union  with  God  be  obtained  by  going  about  naked. 

All  the  beasts  of  the  forest  shall  be  saved. 

What  mattereth  it  whether  man  goeth  naked  or  weareth  a deerskin. 

If  he  recognize  God  in  his  heart  ? 

If  perfection  be  obtained  by  shaving  the  head, 

Why  should  not  sheep  obtain  salvation  ? 

If,  O brethren,  the  continent  man  is  saved, 

Why  should  not  a eunuch  obtain  the  supreme  reward  ? 1 

Or  Nanak  used  to  say  : ‘If  God  is  a stone,  I will  worship  a 
mountain.’  He  refers  to  the  myriad  stone  images  of  Hindu 
idolatry.  Namdev  (born  a.d.  1270)  preached  impressively 
against  stone  idols. 

No  better  than  the  formalism  of  Hindu  sectarian  religion 
comes  off  worldly,  unspiritual  Moslemism.  Nanak  says : 

The  Qazi  sitteth  to  administer  justice; 

He  turneth  over  his  beads  and  invoketh  God. 

But  he  taketh  bribes  and  doeth  injustice. 

If  called  to  account  he  will  read  and  cite  texts. 

1 Cf.  Bohtlingk,  Indische  Spriiche,  4376,  4873. 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


173 


Even-handed  justice  is  dealt  out  to  both  religions.  Just 
as  their  formalism,  superstition,  or  corruption  is  derided 
and  execrated,  so  the  essential  truth  in  both  is  the  same. 
Saith  the  Granth : 

Some  men  are  Hindus  and  some  are  Mussulmans ; . . . the  Creator 
and  the  Beneficent  are  the  same;  . . . the  Temple  and  the  Mosque  are 
the  same;  . . . Allah  and  Alakh  (Sanskrit  Alaksa,  ‘Without  Attribute’) 
are  the  same ; the  Purans  and  the  Quran  are  the  same ; they  are  all  alike, 
it  is  One  God  who  created  all. 

The  thousands  of  Purans  and  Mohammedan  books  tell  that  in  reality 
there  is  but  one  principle. 

To  one  who  is  acquainted  with  India’s  religious  past,  the 
conditions  under  which  operated  the  thought  of  Nanak’s 
time  are  very  transparent.  Many  centuries  before  Nanak 
the  Upanishads  had  made  nought  of  all  religious  works  and 
forms,  not  expressly,  but  by  a kind  of  implication  which  lost 
no  eloquence  through  its  silence.  In  the  place  of  all  prac- 
tice it  had  put  the  One  True  Being,  of  which  every  living 
thing  is  a part,  and  salvation  from  the  round  of  existence 
(samsara,  transmigration)  through  fusion  with  the  One. 
As  time  went  by,  this  monism  was  touched  up  monotheis- 
tically ; ever  since  the  day  of  Yajnavalkya  and  his  wife 
Maitreyl  transcendental  theoretic  monism  keeps  shaping 
itself  over  in  practice  into  mystic  longing  of  the  creature  to 
become  fused  with  the  One.  This  is  bhakti,  ‘love  of  God,’ 
found  with  every  Brahmanical  sect  and  every  Brahman- 
ical  philosophy.  It  is  the  eclectic  philosophical  theosophy 
of  the  Bhagavatglta,  the  ‘Song  of  the  Exalted  One,’  the 
type  of  belief  which  had  become  common  property  in 
Nanak’s  time : a Creator  has  created  the  world  and  its 
beings  through  a kind  of  “fake”  process.  Most  of  it  is 
maya,  ‘illusion.’  The  world  and  its  beings  are  not  of  him; 
they  are  aside  from  him.  Only  one  thing  is  excepted, 
namely,  the  soul  of  man.  That  soul  is,  in  reality,  the  soul 
of  the  Creator ; 2 fervid  devotion  to  the  Creator  finally 
results  in  fusion  with  him,  which  is  salvation. 

2 So  the  Bhagat  Ra vidas  : 

Between  Thee  and  me,  between  me  and  Thee,  what  difference  can  there  be  ? 

The  same  as  between  gold  and  the  bracelet,  between  water  and  its  ripples. 


174 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


Such,  then,  is  the  very  unoriginal  theosophic  basis  of 
Sikhism.  It  is  an  ideal  which  wavers  between  chilly,  abstract 
monistic  pantheism,  on  the  one  hand ; and  perfervid  an- 
thropomorphic theism,  in  the  manner  of  the  Christian 
Mystics,  on  the  other  hand.  I can  easily  gather  from  Nanak’s 
hymns  support  for  both  ends  of  this  line.  At  one  time  he 
says  : “The  imperceptible  God  was  Himself  the  speaker  and 
preacher ; Himself  unseen,  He  was  Everything.”  At  another 
time  he  insists  that  God  is  a Being  who  must  be  longed  for 
as  a bride  longs  for  the  bridegroom,  or,  must  be  approached 
and  loved  as  a fond  and  faithful  wife  loves  her  spouse. 

Like  every  other  Hindu  sect,  the  Sikhs  believed  in  trans- 
migration. Escape  from  its  toils  can  be  accomplished  only 
by  fusion  with  Akal  Purukh  (Sanskrit  Akala  Purusa), 
the  ‘Timeless  Spirit.’  Paradise  or  heaven  (Sach  Khand) 
is  but  a temporary  reward ; it  does  not  make  immune  to 
transmigration,  suffering,  fear,  and  the  long  train  of  life’s 
evils.  “What  is  hell  and  what  heaven,  the  wretched  places  ? ” 
exclaims  Kabir,  one  of  Nanak’s  predecessors;  “the  saints 
have  rejected  them  both.  God  and  Kabir  have  become 
one;  no  one  can  distinguish  between  them.”  And  Nanak 
says  (i.  159)  : 

The  Guru’s  word  is  speech  of  nectar ; by  drinking  it  man  becometh 
acceptable. 

When  man  performeth  service  at  God’s  gate  to  obtain  a sight  of  Him, 
what  careth  he  for  paradise  ? 

The  names  or  designations  of  the  Creator,  or  the  funda- 
mental power,  vary  between  ancient  personal  designations 
borrowed  from  the  sectarian  Pantheon,  and  ancient  philo- 
sophical abstractions.  God  is  spoken  of  plainly  as  Krishna 
Govind,  Rama,  Brahma,  and,  above  all,  Hari.  This  is  one 
mood.  On  the  other  hand,  he  is  Paramesur  (Paramegvara), 
‘Supreme  Lord’;  Sunn  (Cunya),  ‘The  Solitary’;  Alakh 
(Alaksa),  ‘Without  Quality’;  Akal  (Akala),  ‘Timeless’; 

Cf.  Angelus  Silesius  (cited  in  my  Religion  of  the  Veda,  p.  275,  note) : — 

Ich  bin  so  gross  wie  Gott, 

Er  ist  wie  ich  so  klein; 

Ich  kann  nicht  unter  ihm, 

Er  uber  mir  nicht  sein. 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


175 


Akshar  (Aksara),  ‘Imperishable’ ; Purukh  (Purusa),  ‘World- 
Man,  ’ or  ‘World-Soul’;  very  frequently  combined,  Akal 
Purukh,  ‘Timeless  Soul.’  But  the  favorite  and  most  ec- 
static Sikh  expression  for  the  Divine  is  simply  ‘Name.’  It 
is  employed  almost  cabalistically.  At  the  head  of  Nanak’s 
hymns  stand  the  words  Sat  Nam,  “True  Name.’  The  Guru 
was  asked  why  this  was  so.  He  replied : “The  Name  is  the 
God  of  all  Gods.  Some  propitiate  Durga,  some  Shiv,  some 
Ganesh,  and  some  other  Gods ; but  the  Guru’s  Sikhs  worship 
the  True  Name  and  thus  remove  all  obstacles  to  salvation.” 
We  are  reminded  on  the  one  hand  of  the  ‘ name  of  Allah  ’ ; 
on  the  other,  of  ‘ thousand-named  ’ Vishnu  : likely  enough 
this  feature  reflects  Mohammedan  influence  (cf.  Amos  vi. 
10). 

In  the  pure  Hindu  philosophies  and  in  Buddhism  man’s 
destiny  is  governed  by  karma,  ‘deed.’  The  key-note  is 
struck  at  a very  early  time.  So  the  ‘Great  Forest-Upani- 
shad’  (4.  4.  3),  one  of  the  earliest  theosophic  tracts  of  India  : 
“Man  is  altogether  desire  (kama) ; as  is  his  desire  so  is  his 
insight  (kratu) ; as  is  his  insight  so  is  his  deed  (karma) ; 
as  is  his  deed  so  is  his  destiny.”  Man’s  acts  attach  themselves 
to  the  soul  and  determine  its  next  abode  in  the  course  of  its 
migrations.  So  also  Nanak  : 

Impute  not  blame  to  any  one,  but  rather  to  thine  own  karma. 

I have  suffered  the  consequences  of  my  acts ; I may  blame  no  one  else. 

In  the  Sikh  writings  the  karma  is  generally  construed  as 
sinister,  as  ‘evil  deed,’  manmukh  karm  (Sanskrit  manomusa 
karma).  This  comprises  the  ordinary  human  sins.  The 
karma  that  elevates  character  and  insures  rebirth  as  a higher 
being,  even  a god,  is  rather  ignored.  In  common  use  karma 
gets  to  mean  sin  committed  in  a previous  existence  — that 
and  nothing  more. 

Another,  less  ancient  idea,  which  at  a comparatively 
early  time  entangles  the  Hindu  mind  in  a paradox,  takes 
the  place  of  the  more  philosophical  karma.  It  is  the  idea 
of  fate  or  decree  (Sanskrit  daivam).3  So  the  distinguished 

3 See  Professor  Winternitz’s  interesting  paper,  ‘Das  Sehieksal  im  Glauben  und 
Denken  der  Inder,’  Allgemeine  Zeitung,  May  3d  and  5th,  1902. 


176 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


Sanskrit  poet  Bhartrhari,  in  his  famous  Centuries  of  Lyric 
Stanzas : 4 

The  wise  Creator  wrote  upon  thy  brow, 

When  thou  wast  born  what  wealth  should  once  be  thine; 

The  sum  was  great  perhaps  or  small ; yet  now 
Thy  fate  is  fixed,  and  sure  the  law  divine. 

For  if  thou  dwell  within  the  desert’s  rim, 

Thou  shalt  have  nothing  less  than  is  his  will ; 

Nor  will  there  more  apportioned  be  to  him 
That  hastes  to  Meru’s  gold-abounding  hill. 

In  the  same  spirit  says  Nanak  : 

The  die  is  cast,  no  one  can  undo  it. 

What  know  I of  the  future’s  happening  ? 

Whate’er  pleases  Him,  that  hath  occurred ; 

No  one  but  Him  doth  act. 

Ravidas  boldly  denies  free  will : 

Were  I not  to  sin,  O Timeless  Spirit ! 

How  could  thy  name  be  Purifier  of  Sinners  ? 

In  practice  the  Sikhs  throughout  their  secular  history  are 
quite  as  fatalistic  as  the  Mohammedans,  and  up  to  a certain 
point  their  fatalism  contributed  to  their  political  success. 

Here,  again,  there  is  no  new  doctrine,  and  nothing  that  the 
rest  of  the  Hindu  people  of  the  time  disavowed  or  hesitated 
to  apply  when  they  were  so  minded.  If,  after  all  this,  it  is 
plainly  impossible  to  find  anything  that  is  at  the  same  time 
important  and  new  in  Sikh  theology,  we  may  inquire  whether 
the  renovating  factor  of  Sikhism  is  contained  in  its  institu- 
tions, rather  than  in  its  spiritual  doctrines.  For,  after  all, 
Sikhism  was  a new  religion,  which  offered  real  shelter  to  many, 
and  in  time  fitted  its  adherents  to  become  successful  oppo- 
nents of  the  followers  of  Islam  in  the  North  of  India. 

Nearly  two  thousand  years  before  Nanak’s  time,  Bud- 
dhism had  negated  and  abolished  caste  through  the  inherent 
quality  of  its  teaching.  But  Buddhism  had  passed  out  of 
the  peninsula  of  India,  and  caste  controlled  non-Islamic 
India.  In  the  light  of  the  monistic  high  thought  of  India, 


4 See  Ryder,  Woman’s  Eyes,  p.  24. 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


177 


which  postulates  the  identity  of  all  men’s  souls  with  the 
One,  caste  has  always  been  a perplexing  paradox  as  well  as 
a corrosive  institution.  Ramakrishna,  the  modern  saint,  or 
Paramahansa,  knows  this,  and  is  willing  to  share  a bone  with 
a dog,  his  brother.5  But,  of  course,  as  a good  Hindu,  he 
recognizes  that  this  is  only  for  the  Emancipate ; in  ordinary 
life  he  admits  the  need  of  caste.6  There  is  a great  difference 
between  occasional  academic  protest,  and  the  express, 
sincere  invective  against  caste  in  the  Sikhs’  Gurus’  utter- 
ances. In  that  Mohammedan  time,  in  that  Moslemic  coun- 
try, the  disavowal  of  caste  was  the  irreducible  minimum  of 
concession  which  a new  Hindu  religion  must  make  before  it 
could  hope  to  succeed.  With  the  Gurus’  revived  and  in- 
tensified sense  that  all  men  depend  upon  the  ‘Name,’  and 
are  alike  an  efflux  from  the  ‘Timeless  Spirit,’  the  wooden- 
ness and  cruelty  of  caste,  as  practised  by  the  Hindu  sects, 
became  a conviction,  sincere,  fiery,  polemical ; at  the  same 
time  it  enabled  the  Sikhs  to  compete  successfully  with  Mo- 
hammedanism. The  Gurus  attacked  the  caste  system  and, 
at  the  same  time,  other  Hindu  notions  of  impurity  in  many 
necessary  and  harmless  acts  of  ordinary  life : 

Castes  are  folly,  names  are  folly ; 

All  creatures  have  one  shelter  (God). 

Thus  Nanak  states  in  simplest  words  the  most  immediate 
consequence  of  his  knowledge  of  the  Divine.  Before  Nanak, 
the  Bhagats  Ramanand,  Kabir,  Namdev,  and  Ra vidas  had 
all  arrived  at  the  same  conclusion. 

In  various  other  ways  also  Sikhism  pointed  the  way  to 
freedom  from  galling,  cruel  Hindu  practice  and  superstition, 
and  to  saner  and  cleaner  life.  The  Gurus  forbid  idolatry, 
widow-burning,  infanticide,  pilgrimages  to  the  sacred  rivers 
and  tanks ; they  preach  philanthropy,  justice,  truth,  and 
domestic  virtue.  Indeed,  the  theory  of  their  religion  is  well- 
nigh  a counsel  of  perfection.  And  yet  it  is  doubtful  whether 
all  this  accounts  for  the  rapid  spread  of  the  teachings  of  the 
Gurus  and  their  development  into  a religious  system  which 

5 Ramakrishna,  His  Life  and  Sayings  (edited  by  Max  Miiller),  p.  122. 

6 Ibid.,  pp.  146,  147. 


178 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


in  its  final  form  marks  off  the  Sikhs  from  the  rest  of  the  Hindu 
world,  not  only  as  a religious  body,  but  as  a people  of  singular 
character  and  individuality.  Into  the  making  of  Sikhism 
another  ancient  Hindu  institution  has  entered  as  a very  im- 
portant factor : perhaps  we  may  say  the  prime  factor. 

The  name  Sikh  (Sanskrit  Qisya)  means  ‘disciple’ ; the  name 
Guru,  ‘teacher.’  The  Sikh  texts,  as  a rule,  speak  of  the 
Gurus  and  their  Sikhs,  that  is,  the  ‘Teachers  and  their  Dis- 
ciples ’ ; or,  even  more  compactly,  of  the  Gurus’  Sikhs,  the 
‘Teachers’  Disciples.’  The  relation  of  teacher  and  pupil  in 
India  has  always  been  pious,  sentimental,  and  sacramental. 
The  so-called  ‘House-Books’  (Grhya-sutras)  show  that  the 
initiation  (upanayana)  of  an  Aryan  Brahmanical  boy  was 
an  affair  of  very  considerable  solemnity.7  Teacher  and  pupil 
stand  in  front  of  the  sacred  fire.  The  pupil  begins,  “ I 
have  come  to  study  ; receive  me,  let  me  be  thy  pupil,  incited 
thereunto  by  God  Savitar”  (the  god  who  incites  to  piety). 
The  teacher  replies,  “Who  art  thou,  what  is  thy  name?” 
“My  name  is  Devadatta.”  The  teacher  then  says,  “May  I, 
O God  Savitar,  fulfil  my  purpose  with  this  boy  Devadatta.” 
Like  an  apprentice  in  the  time  of  the  guilds  the  boy  lives  with 
his  teacher,  serves,  and  obeys  him.  Mornings  and  evenings 
he  gathers  wood  for  his  fire,  and  begs  alms  for  him,  beginning 
his  begging  tour  with  his  own  mother.  When  the  teacher 
addresses  the  pupil  while  the  latter  is  seated,  he  must  rise 
before  he  makes  answer ; if  the  pupil  is  on  his  feet,  he  must 
run  up  to  the  teacher  and  answer. 

Beyond  this  external  formalism  a tenderer  bond  unites 
the  two.  In  the  course  of  the  initiation  the  teacher  touches 
the  heart  of  the  boy  and  pronounces  these  solemn  words, 
“Thy  heart  shall  dwell  in  my  heart;  thy  spirit  shall  follow 
my  spirit ; with  willing  ears  hear  my  words.”  After  a long 
term  of  study  the  young  man  graduates,  with  various  so- 
lemnities, which  include  a sacramental  bath.  Then  he  goes 
by  the  name  of  Snataka,  ‘Bathed.’  In  the  Taittiriya- 
Upanishad  the  Snataka  is  bidden  to  speak  the  truth  always ; 
to  cultivate  the  study  of  the  Veda ; to  perform  his  duties  as 
a householder ; and  to  honor  parents  and  teacher  like  unto 
gods. 

7 See  Hillebrandt,  Alt-Indien,  pp.  100  ff. 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


179 


The  teacher  remains  a sacred  person;  he  is  the  typical 
“Reverend,”  and,  even  more  than  parents,  the  pivot  around 
which  turn  all  lessons  that  inculcate  reverence.  The  ancient 
Law-Book  of  Apastamba  (1.  1.  13)  has  it : “He  from  whom 
the  pupil  gathers  (aeinoti)  the  knowledge  of  his  duties  is  called 
teacher  (acarya) . Him  he  must  never  offend.  For  he  causes 
his  pupil  to  be  born  a second  time  by  imparting  to  him  the 
sacred  knowledge.  Father  and  mother  produce  the  body 
only.”  The  association  of  the  idea  of  spiritual  fatherhood 
remains  a permanent  factor  of  Hindu  thought  and  senti- 
ment. The  name  ‘Twice-born,’  that  is,  ‘Regenerate,’  be- 
longs to  high-caste  Brahmanical  Hindus  precisely  because 
they  are  in  duty  bound  to  get  from  a teacher  their  new  birth 
through  knowledge  of  sacred  things.  The  relation  of  teacher 
and  pupil  is  not  weakened  by  time,  nor  cloyed  by  familiarity  ; 
the  responsibility  of  the  pupil  towards  the  teacher  holds 
through  life.  “He  who,  though  able,  does  not  support  his 
mother,  his  aged  father,  his  true  wife,  his  not  grown-up 
child,  his  Brahman  Teacher,  and  any  one  that  conies  to  him 
for  protection,  dead  is  he,  even  though  he  breathe.”  So  says 
the  Bhagavata  Purana  (10.  45.  7).  With  the  systematic 
rigor  of  a sort  of  proverb,  the  Mahabharata  fixes  the  position 
of  the  Teacher  among  the  five  very  most  important  persons 
and  things  in  all  the  world:  “Five  sacred  (fires)  must  be 
tended  with  unremitting  care : father,  mother,  the  (actual 
sacred)  fire,  one’s  own  self,  and  one’s  teacher”  (Mahabh. 
5.  33.  74). 

It  is  easy  to  see  that  the  word  “teacher,”  instead  of  imply- 
ing merely  a person  who  imparts,  for  a consideration,  more  or 
less  useful  knowledge,  has  assumed  the  high  value  of  spirit- 
ual guide  and  superior.  In  its  final  outcome,  in  the  view  of 
Hindus  who  are  interested  in  the  burning  question  of  their 
ultimate  destiny,  who  crave  the  unique  salvation  which  is 
fusion  with  the  Absolute  One,  the  Guru  is  the  John  the  Bap- 
tist who  heralds  the  great  event,  and  the  guide  who  points 
the  way  to  that  great  event.  “As  when  going  to  a strange 
country,  one  must  abide  by  the  directions  of  him  who  knows 
the  way,  while  taking  the  advice  of  many  may  lead  to  con- 
fusion, so  in  trying  to  reach  God  one  should  follow  the  single 
Guru  who  knows  the  way  to  God.”  So  saith  the  modern 


180 


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saint  and  ascetic,  thePararnahansa  Ramakrishna,  and  he  con- 
tinues : 

The  Guru  is  a mediator.  He  brings  man  and  God  together. 

The  note,  too,  of  papal  infallibility  is  struck  exigently : 

The  disciple  should  never  criticise  his  own  Guru.  He  must  implicitly 
obey  whatever  his  Guru  says. 

As  a Bengali  proverb  has  it, 

Though  my  Guru  may  visit  tavern  and  still. 

My  Guru  is  holy  Rai  Nityananda  still.8 

After  all  this,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  Brahmanical 
literature  in  endless  iteration  condemns  violence  to  teachers 
as  one  of  the  deadly  sins.  In  the  history  of  ethics  the  Hindu 
conception  of  the  relation  of  Teacher  and  Disciple  stands 
out  as  one  of  the  most  perfect  and  sensitive  conceptions, 
removed  alike  from  selfishness  and  loosely  attached  altruism, 
and  is  entirely  fit  to  be  regarded  as  the  final  test  of  Hindu 
ethical  feeling  and  practice. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  most  distinctive  feature  in  Sikhism 
is  the  development  of  this  time-honored  relation  between 
individual  teacher  and  individual  pupil  into  an  ecclesiastico- 
political  force,  which  finally  led  up  to  a sort  of  church-state, 
and  a sort  of  nation.  It  is  easy  to  see  how  a single  teacher 
of  very  holy  repute  might  gather  about  him  many  pupils 
who  would  feel  and  show  such  veneration  as  is  implanted 
in  every  Hindu  by  his  own  intrinsic  spirituality  and  by  im- 
memorial tradition.  Pupils  in  larger  mass  might  shower 
presents  upon  the  teacher,  put  into  his  hands  the  means  for 
luxurious  and  courtly  living,  surround  his  person  with  watch- 
ful care  against  envious  detractors  and  personal  enemies, 
and  finally,  as  it  were,  press  upon  him  a pontificate  not  at 
all  wanting  in  temporal  or  secular  advantages.  This  is  pre- 
cisely what  happened  in  Sikhism. 

The  legends  of  the  Gurus  are  still  to  be  sifted  for  the  per- 
haps not  too  numerous  grains  of  real  history  which  they  with- 
out doubt  contain.  One  thing  is  quite  certain,  namely,  that 

8 See  Ramakrishna,  pp.  132,  133. 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


181 


the  early  Gurus  were  simple,  modest  men  without  any  per- 
sonal aspirations.  Nanak,  the  first  Guru,  was  a travelling 
fakir ; he  was  not  a priest  either  by  birth  or  education.  His 
sole  claim  to  notice  and  distinction  was  that  he  was  possessed 
of  a high  grade  of  deistic  emotionalism.  The  unity  of  God 
and  the  need  of  righteousness  were  the  two  unoriginal  and 
not  altogether  consanguineous  propositions  which  he  had  to 
offer  his  followers.  He  travelled  from  place  to  place  and 
chanted  his  hymns  of  praise  to  the  lute  of  a player,  by  the 
name  of  Mardana,  who  accompanied  him  in  his  travels.  He 
was  one  of  those  gentle,  pitiful,  messianic  Hindu  teachers, 
anxious  to  steer  suffering  and  superstitious  humanity  across 
the  ocean  of  individual,  divided  existence  to  the  haven  of 
union  with  the  One.  Yajnavalkya  and  Buddha  are  his 
ancient  prototypes;  the  Bhagats  that  preceded  him,  his 
direct  teachers.  Nevertheless  the  note  of  Guruship  as  well 
as  that  of  apostolic  succession  is  struck  in  the  legend  of 
Nanak.  He  exacted  obedience  from  his  adherents.  He 
passed  his  pontificate  over  the  heads  of  his  own  unsteady 
and  disobedient  sons  to  a disciple  whom  he  had  put  through 
the  severest  tests  of  obedience.  The  story  has  it  that  he 
made  Angad,  his  successor,  eat  of  a corpse  and  do  other  re- 
pulsive things  in  order  to  see  how  stout  was  Angad’s  faith 
in  Nanak’s  Guruship.  When  Nanak’s  end  approached,  he 
placed  the  umbrella  of  spiritual  sovereignty  over  Angad’s 
head  and  bowed  to  him  as  the  future  Guru.  In  his  last 
moments  Nanak  drew  a sheet  over  himself  and  blended  his 
light  with  Guru  Angad.  The  Guru  remained  the  same. 
Hereafter  all  Gurus  are  Nanak  — a sort  of  composite  pho- 
tography. And  it  is  curious  to  observe  that  Nanak  is  in 
ecstatic  moments  really  identified  with  the  Timeless  Spirit 
— an  extreme  but  not  unlogical  conclusion. 

The  second  and  third  Gurus,  Angad  and  Amardas,  con- 
tinued the  pontificate  as  humble  teachers,  obscure  heads  of 
one  of  the  sects  that  kept  springing  up  mushroom-like  in  those 
days  among  the  Hindus,  as  a rule  to  be  lost  in  some  new 
form  of  religious  emotionalism.  But  the  fourth  Guru  began 
to  accumulate  wealth  and  exhibit  power.  The  gifts  of  the 
Disciples  flowed  so  freely  that  he  was  able  to  start  building 
the  gorgeous  temple  of  Hari  (Hari-mandar),  in  the  middle  of 


182 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


the  lake  called  ‘Nectar-Lake,’  or  Amritsar,  and  so  lay  the 
foundation  of  this  most  famous  sanctuary,  which  became 
in  due  time  the  Mekka  of  Sikh  religion  and  nationality.  His 
work  was  completed  by  the  fifth  Guru,  Arjan. 

This  last-mentioned  pontiff  compiled  the  Adi  Granth,  to 
which  he  himself  contributed  a large  part,  thus  furnishing 
the  Disciples  with  a bible,  and  the  world  with  one  of  its  most 
noteworthy  theistie  documents.  Next  to  Nanak,  Arjan  was 
the  most  spiritual  of  the  Sikh  pontiffs.  But  Arjan  was  econo- 
mist and  statesman  as  well  as  shepherd  and  churchman.  He 
instituted  most  significant  economic  and  secular  reforms. 
He  substituted  for  the  free  gifts  of  the  Disciples  definite 
taxation,  and  in  his  last  will  and  testament  ordered  his  son 
and  successor  in  the  Guruship  to  sit  fully  armed  on  his  throne, 
and  to  maintain  an  army.  Arjan  died  a cruel  death,  pre- 
sumably through  the  machinations  of  a personal  enemy  by 
the  name  of  Chandu,  minister  of  finance  at  Delhi,  whose 
daughter  he  did  not  think  good  enough  to  accept  in  marriage 
for  his  son,  Har  Govind.  Furthermore,  as  stated  above 
(p.  171),  he  had  exposed  himself  to  Emperor  Jahangir’s  wrath 
by  giving  aid  and  comfort  to  his  fugitive,  rebellious  son, 
Khusrau.  That  the  Sikh  Guru  and  his  numerous  devoted 
adherents  had  by  that  time  become  an  important  political 
factor  in  the  Mogul  empire,  and  that  the  Guru  pontificate  had 
become  an  object  of  suspicion  to  the  Mogul  emperors,  the 
story  shows  very  clearly. 

The  sixth  Guru,  Har  Govind,  followed  the  political  in- 
tentions and  the  expressed  wishes  of  his  father  and  prede- 
cessor. The  old  simple  insignia  of  Guruship  were  the  seli, 
a woollen  cord  worn  as  a necklace,  and  the  turban.  These 
Har  Govind  exchanged  for  something  much  more  regal : 
“My  seli  shall  be  a sword-belt,  and  I shall  wear  my  turban 
with  a royal  aigrette,’’  he  exclaimed  to  his  old  adviser  Bhai 
Budha.  He  also  carried  two  swords  as  emblems  of  both 
spiritual  and  temporal  authority.  He  celebrated  his  ac- 
cession by  a large  banquet  given  to  his  Sikhs.  He  issued 
an  encyclical  letter  to  the  tax  collectors  (inasands)  in  which 
he  said,  significantly,  that  he  should  be  pleased  with  those 
who  brought  arms  and  horses  instead  of  money.  He  built 
a magnificent  throne-house  of  solid  stone  masonry,  the  so- 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


183 


called  Akal  Bunga,  and  took  his  seat  in  it.  He  enrolled  as 
his  bodyguard  fifty-two  heroes,  to  which  were  added  five 
hundred  youths,  to  each  of  whom  he  gave  a horse  and  arms. 
This  force  he  organized  under  centurion  captains  of  a hundred 
horse  each.  To  while  away  his  time,  he  devoted  himself  to 
the  chase. 

Chandu,  the  traducer  of  his  father,  became  very  uneasy  at 
this  exhibition  of  power.  Again  he  offered  his  daughter  to 
Har  Govind  in  marriage,  but  Har  Govind  refused,  saying : 
“The  torture  that  thou  didst  inflict  on  such  a peaceful  and 
philanthropic  Guru  as  my  father  must  bring  its  vengeance 
in  time.  Thou  shalt  die  trodden  in  the  dust,  and  dishonored 
by  shoe-beatings  inflicted  by  Pariahs.”  Chandu  then  re- 
newed his  machinations  against  the  Sikhs,  and  managed  to 
have  Har  Govind  cited  to  the  dangerous  presence  of  Emperor 
Jahangir  at  Delhi.  But  Sikh  influence  had  by  that  time 
grown  strong  at  court,  and  Har  Govind’s  personality  was 
very  attractive.  After  some  danger  and  vicissitudes  the 
tables  turned  themselves  on  Chandu,  so  that  he  was  delivered 
into  the  power  of  Har  Govind.  Between  the  lines  of  the 
Sikh  legend  we  can  read  that  the  Guru  wreaked  terrible 
vengeance  on  Chandu.  He  committed  him  to  the  care  of 
two  faithful  Sikhs  who  “took  off  his  turban,  tied  his  hands 
behind  his  back,  and  showered  blows  of  slippers  on  his  de- 
voted head.  While  being  thus  castigated,  he  was  led  through 
the  streets  of  the  city,  a warning  to  all  men.”  Chandu’s 
wife  and  son  were  also  surrendered  to  the  Guru,  who  punished 
them  by  showing  them  Chandu  “made  over  to  Pariahs  as 
if  he  were  a dog.”  Dirt  and  filth  continued  to  be  poured 
on  him,  and  he  was  reduced  to  a condition  in  which  no  one 
could  recognize  him.  After  showing  them  that,  he  let  them 
go.  Naively,  the  legend  says,  “everybody  congratulated  the 
Guru  on  the  mercy  he  had  shown  them.”  The  Guru  after- 
wards took  Chandu  to  Lahore,  the  scene  of  his  father’s  death. 
Here  he  was  delivered  over  to  scavengers,  who  led  him  round 
the  streets  to  beg.  “ He  who  used  to  take  bribes  of  thousands 
of  rupees  was  now  glad  to  get  kauris  and  the  leavings  of  others 
for  his  support.  For  a sacrificial  mark  on  his  forehead  he 
had  now  the  marks  of  shoe-beatings,  and  for  necklaces  of 
pearls  and  diamonds  he  had  old  slippers  suspended  from  his 


184 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


neck.”  After  fifteen  days  of  this  treatment  in  Lahore,  death 
at  the  hand  of  one  of  the  Guru’s  enraged  Sikhs  came  to  his 
relief ; scavengers  threw  his  body  into  the  river  Ravi.  But 
the  Guru  prayed,  characteristically,  that  as  Chandu  had 
suffered  torment  for  his  sins  in  this  life,  God  would  pardon 
him  hereafter. 

The  Sikh  legend  does  not  cover  up  the  fact  that  Har 
Govind  had  become  a powerful,  power-craving,  ostentatious, 
pleasure-loving  potentate  who  was  rather  given  to  larding 
his  worldly  acts  with  the  pious  sayings  of  his  more  spiritual 
predecessors.  His  love  for  the  chase  was  so  great  as  to  in- 
volve him  in  war  with  the  next  Grand  Mogul,  Shah  Jehan. 
A white  hawk  of  the  Emperor,  which  had  been  presented  to 
him  by  the  King  of  Iran,  had  made  its  way  into  the  Guru’s 
hunting  camp,  and  his  huntsmen  refused  to  return  it  to  the 
Emperor.  This  brought  about  a war  which  ended,  so  the 
Sikh  story  goes,  in  a bloody  but  glorious  victory  of  the  Sikhs 
over  the  Mohammedans  near  Amritsar  in  1628.  There  is  no 
reason  to  doubt  that  the  Sikhs  had  become  by  that  time  a 
nation  within  a nation,  or  a landless  empire  within  an  empire. 

Bhai  Gur  Das,  a contemporary  of  the  fourth,  fifth,  and 
sixth  Gurus,  composed  an  analysis  of  the  tenets  of  the  Sikh 
religion  in  which,  of  course,  much  emphasis  is  given  to  the 
functions  of  the  Guru  and  the  true  relation  between  the 
Guru  and  his  Sikhs : 

By  the  Guru’s  hymns  the  mind  is  satisfied,  and  man  reaches  his  own 
home. 

By  the  Guru’s  instruction  the  four  castes  were  blended  into  one  society 
of  saints. 

The  true  Guru,  the  real  king,  putteth  the  holy  on  the  high  road  to  sal- 
vation. He  restraineth  the  deadly  sins,  evil  inclinations,  and  worldly 
love.  By  the  spell  of  the  Name  he  hath  inculcated  love,  devotion,  charity. 
As  the  lotus  remaineth  dry  in  the  water,  so  doth  the  Guru  keep  the  holy 
man  unaffected  by  the  world. 

He  who  seeks  not  the  Guru  is  blind,  even  though  he  have  eyes.  He 
who  listeneth  not  to  the  Guru’s  words  is  deaf,  even  though  he  have  ears. 
He  who  singeth  not  the  Guru’s  hymns  is  dumb,  even  though  he  have  a 
tongue.  Even  though  he  who  smelleth  not  the  perfume  of  the  Guru’s 
feet  have  a nose,  it  is  as  if  it  were  cut  off.  He  who  doeth  not  the  Guru’s 
work,  even  though  he  have  hands,  is  without  them,  and  waileth  in  sorrow. 
He  in  whose  heart  the  Guru’s  instruction  abideth  not,  is  without  under- 
standing, and  obtaineth  not  entrance  into  God’s  court. 


MAURICE  BLOOMFIELD 


185 


I believe  that  the  preceding  exposition  has  laid  bare  the 
mainspring  of  Sikhism,  so  that  no  one  need  fail  to  see  it. 
Let  me  point  out  once  more  that  on  the  side  of  doctrine  or 
philosophy  Sikhism  contains  absolutely  nothing  new,  noth- 
ing that  is  not  to  be  found  elsewhere,  in  some  place,  at  some 
time,  in  India.  As  regards  institutions  and  minor  folk  be- 
liefs, Guru  Arjan  claims  that, 

The  egg  of  superstition  hath  burst ; the  mind  is  illumined. 

The  Guru  hath  cut  the  fetters  off  the  feet  and  freed  the  captive. 

We  have  seen  that  such  is  the  case  as  regards  many  perni- 
cious Hindu  institutions,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this 
result  was  quickly  overtaken  by  a new  growth  of  somewhat 
dubious  quality,  such  as  fatalism,  brigandage,  and  exceeding 
worldliness,  thinly  veiled  by  pious  wordiness.  The  truly 
potent  element  in  Sikhism  is  euhemeristic.  Some  years 
ago  I pointed  out,  not  at  all  originally,  that  “the  impressive 
object-lesson  of  superiority,  physical  or  spiritual,  may  make  a 
god  of  a tribal  chief,  a Roman  emperor,  or  a Hindu  ascetic.”9 
We  know  that  there  are  in  India  to  this  day  leading  preachers 
of  the  Brahma,  so  holy,  so  sanctifying  in  character  and  ex- 
ample, that  their  canonization  by  popular  consent  as  Para- 
mahansas,  ‘Supreme  Spirits,’  comes  dangerously  near  to  iden- 
tifying them  with  the  Divinity.  This  is,  when  we  ponder 
it,  exactly  on  all  fours  with  the  monistic  Brahma.  The  truly 
new  thing  in  Sikhism  is  the  surcharging  of  this  euhemerism 
with  temporal,  practical,  and  finally  political  factors.  For 
once,  under  the  stress  of  the  irksome  Mohammedan  environ- 
ment, the  Hindus  were  led  to  recoin  the  ancient  institution 
of  spiritual  Guruship  into  militant  leadership  — a thing 
not  dreamt  of  before  in  India.  This  enabled  them  to  gain 
a new  station  in  the  despised  world,  after  their  former  sta- 
tion had  become,  paradoxically  speaking,  so  despicable  that 
they  could  no  longer  endure  it.  Sikhism  reformed  stridently 
and  effectively  some  of  the  blatant  abuses  of  Hindu  religious 
practice,  yet  remained  at  the  core  an  essentially  Hindu  re- 
ligion. The  really  new  idea  was  the  fighting,  euhemeristi- 
cally  deified  Guru  and  his  fighting  Sikhs.  But  for  the  Sikhs, 

9 See  my  article,  ‘The  Symbolic  Gods,’  in  Studies  in  Honor  of  B.  L.  Gildersleeve, 
p.  38. 


186 


THE  SIKH  RELIGION 


all  or  most  of  India  might  have  been  Mohammedanized ; or, 
at  least,  Mohammedan  failure  in  this  respect  is  probably 
due  in  a considerable  measure  to  Sikh  resistance.  In  this 
way  this  errant  child  of  Hinduism  has  contributed  largely 
to  the  preservation  of  Hinduism.  It  would  seem  as  if  — 
that  service  done  — the  jaded  child  were  at  last  returning 
to  the  bosom  of  its  aged  but  not  yet  altogether  decrepit 
mother.  The  Sikhs  are  now  reverting,  to  some  extent,  to 
Hinduism,  and  are  again  worshipping  Hindu  gods  in  Hindu 
temples. 

Baltimore, 

January,  1911. 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


George  Aaron  Barton 
Bryn  Mawr  College 

There  is  no  more  fascinating  problem  in  the  whole  field 
of  the  history  of  religion  than  the  origin  and  development 
of  the  worship  of  Yahweh.  Within  the  last  few  years  new 
facts  concerning  it  have  been  brought  to  light,  and  various 
and  somewhat  conflicting  theories  have  arisen  to  explain 
them.  It  is  the  purpose  of  the  present  paper  to  examine, 
sift,  and  coordinate  the  most  important  of  these  facts  and 
theories. 

We  may  begin  with  a reference  to  the  theory  that  Yahweh 
was  of  Kenite  origin,  though  this  view  has  been  discussed  so 
often  of  recent  years  that  it  is  unnecessary  to  enter  fully 
into  it  here.  It  was  first  suggested  by  Ghillany  1 in  1862, 
was  supported  by  Tiele,2  strongly  urged  by  Stade,3  more 
fully  worked  out  by  Budde,4  and  has  been  accepted  by 
Guthe,5  H.  P.  Smith,6  Wildeboer,7  Cheyne,8  Paton,9  and 
Burney.10  The  present  writer  has  twice  expressed  his  ad- 
hesion to  it,11  and  Addis  accepts  it  as  a possibility.12  The 
reasons  for  accepting  it  have  been  succinctly  stated  by  Budde, 
Paton,  and  the  writer,  and  need  not  be  repeated  here.  They 
follow  from  the  prevailing  Pentateuchal  documentary  theory, 

1 Theologische  Briefe  an  die  Gebildeten  der  deutschen  Nation,  1.  216,  408. 

2 Vergelijkende  Gesehiedenis  van  de  Egyptische  en  Mesopotamische  Gods- 
diensten,  p.  559. 

3 Geschiehte  des  Volkes  Israel,  1.  130  f. ; Biblische  Theologie,  pp.  42  f. 

4 Religion  of  Israel  to  the  Exile,  chapter  i. 

6 Geschiehte  des  Volkes  Israel,  pp.  21,  29.  6 Old  Testament  History,  p.  57. 

7 Jahvedienst  en  Volksreligie  in  Israel,  pp.  15  f. 

8 Encyclopaedia  Biblica,  col.  3208.  9 Biblical  World,  28.  116  f. 

10  Journal  of  Theological  Studies,  9.  337  If. 

11  Semitic  Origins,  pp.  272  f.,  275  f.,  and  Hastings’s  Dictionary  of  the  Bible  in 

One  Volume,  p.  410. 

12  Hebrew  Religion  to  the  Establishment  of  Judaism  under  Ezra,  p.  70. 

187 


188 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


so  that  from  the  Biblical  evidence  as  thus  understood  this 
formerly  seemed  the  only  natural  hypothesis. 

Several  new  theories  have,  however,  been  urged  in  recent 
years,  two  of  which  are  based  on  facts  outside  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. These  have  been  thought  to  challenge  or  overthrow 
the  Kenite  hypothesis.  If  they  really  do  so,  that  theory 
should  be  reexamined  or  discarded. 

The  first  of  these  theories  is  based  upon  the  belief  that  the 
name  Yahweh  has  been  found  on  Babylonian  tablets  of 
the  time  of  Hammurabi  or  earlier.  The  occurrence  of  such 
names  was  first  announced  by  Professor  Sayce,13  but  the 
announcement  did  not  attract  attention  until  Professor 
Delitzsch  delivered  the  famous  lecture  which  started  the 
‘Babel  und  Bibel’  controversy.14  He  brought  into  prom- 
inence two  names,  Yawa-ilu 15  and  Yaum-ilu,16  claiming 
the  first  to  be  equal  to  Yahweh-el  and  the  second  to  Joel. 
Many  scholars  accepted  the  latter  name  as  probably  rep- 
resenting Yahweh,17  but  the  first  one  was  doubted,  not 
only  because  the  sign  read  wa  might  be  read  pi,  but  because 
in  the  hundreds  of  names  in  the  Old  Testament  in  which 
Yahweh  is  the  first,  element,  this  element  is  always  con- 
tracted to  Yo  or  Y'ho.18  More  recently  it  has  been  thought 
to  be  proved  that  Delitzsch  misread  the  name  Yawa-ilu  and 
that,  it  should  be  read  Yapi-ilu.19  This  view  is  based  on  the 
discovery  of  a name  Ya-pa-ilu  in  a tablet  of  the  same  period.20 
It  is  not,  however,  quite  certain  that  this  disproves  the  pres- 
ence of  the  divine  name  Yahweh,  for  Johns  has  pointed  out 
that  if  we  take  Iabe,21  the  pronunciation  of  the  Tetragram- 
maton  to  which  Theodoret  testifies,  as  a starting  point,  the 
Babylonian  divine  name  lb  may  come  into  comparison. 


13  Expository  Times,  9.  522.  Cf.  Hommel,  ibid.  10.  42. 

14  See  his  Babel  and  Bible,  translated  by  Johns,  pp.  70  ff. 

16  Spelled  Ya-a-wa-ilu,  in  Cuneiform  Texts,  8.  20.  3a,  and  Ya-wa-ilu,  ibid.  34.  4a. 
In  each  case  the  sign  read  wa  might  be  read  pi,  making  Yapi-ilu. 

16  See  Cuneiform  Texts,  4.  27.  3a.  The  m is  apparently  the  well-known  mimma- 
tion. 

17  So,  for  example,  A.  T.  Clay,  Light  on  the  Bible  from  Babel,  pp.  236  f.,  and 
Rogers,  Religion  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  pp.  92  ff. 

18  See  Clay,  op.  cit.,  pp.  236  and  239.  19  So  Clay,  Amurru,  p.  207. 

20  See  Vorderasiatische  Schriftdenkmaler,  8.  no.  16.  39. 

21  Iabe  was  really  pronounced  Yahwe.  This  does  not  affect  the  fact  that  b,  p, 
and  m all  may  represent  in  Babylonian  the  Hebrew  waw. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


189 


One  individual  at  Dilbat  was  named  ilu-Ib-ilu-Iau,  i.e.  ‘the 
god  lb  is  my  god  Yau.’ 22  The  god  lb  was  then  identified 
with  Yau,  who  was  perhaps  Yahu  or  Yahweh.  It  has  been 
demonstrated  that  in  Babylonian  p,  b,  and  m all  interchanged 
with  waw.23  If  laba  was,  as  Johns  suggests,  one  of  the  Baby- 
lonian ways  of  expressing  Yahweh,  this  may  also  have  been 
expressed  in  Babylonian  writing  by  Yapa.  In  that  ease  the 
name  of  Yapa-ilu  referred  to  above,  so  far  from  disproving 
Professor  Delitzseh’s  contention  that  Yawa-ilu  or  Yapi-ilu 
contains  the  divine  name  Yahweh  as  its  first  element,  would 
actually  confirm  it. 

It  must  be  confessed,  however,  that  this  identity  is  very 
uncertain.  While  it  may  be  that  all  three  forms  Yawa, 
Yaba,  and  Yapa  represent  an  original  Yahweh,24  that  it  really 
was  so  is  not  yet  proven. 

When  Yahweh  as  the  first  element  of  a personal  name  was 
written  in  cuneiform  in  the  Persian  period,  it  was  sometimes 
written  ‘Ya-,’  sometimes  ‘Yau-,’  and  sometimes ‘Yahu.’ 25 
If  we  may  reason  that  the  same  varieties  of  phonetic  ex- 
pression existed  in  the  time  of  the  first  dynasty  of  Babylon, 
we  should  find  the  name  Yahweh  as  the  first  element  in  the 
names  Yahi-ilu  26  and  Yauhi-ilu 27  which  occur  in  texts  from 
Dilbat.  This  would  add  another  group  of  occurrences  of 
this  name  in  Babylonian  texts  of  this  period  and  also  another 
to  the  forms  under  which  it  appears. 

The  fact  that  in  tablets  of  the  Kassite  period  the  name 
Yau-bani 28  occurs,  has  been  urged  as  a reason  for  supposing 
that  these  forms,  or  at  least  some  of  them,  represent  the 

22  Cambridge  Biblical  Essays,  p.  49. 

23  E.g.,  Hebrew  '""^8  is  turned  into  Assyrio-Babylonian  as  lamu,  labu,  and  lapu 
(Talm.  'lb,  Syriac  Vwa,  Arabic  lawa;  in  Ethiopic  the  form  in  the  simple  stem  has  be- 
come lawawa,  but  in  the  reflexive  talaweya  the  original  form  of  the  root  appears).  Cf. 
Delitzsch,  Assyrisches  Handworterbuch,  pp.  368,  379,  and  Brockelmann,  Vergleich- 
ende  Grammatik  der  semitischen  Sprachen,  pp.  139,  140. 

24  Daiches,  Zeitschrift  filr  Assyriologie,  22.  126,  declares  that  the  Tetragram- 
maton  is  never  found  in  the  cuneiform. 

25  See  Clay,  Light  on  the  Old  Testament  from  Babel,  pp.  236  ff .,  and  Babylonian 
Expedition  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  9.  no.  25.  1.  19;  no.  28.  1.  15;  no. 
45.  1.  1;  no.  55.  lines  1,  14;  10.  no.  77.  1.  3. 

26  Vorderasiatische  Schriftdenkmaler,  7.  no.  5.  27. 

27  Ibid.  no.  8.  3,  5,  8 ; no.  9.  39. 

28  Cf.  Babylonian  Expedition  of  the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  16.  no.  184. 
1.  7 ; no.  200.  col.  i.  1.  37 ; col.  ii.  lines  16,  25. 


190 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


divine  name  Yahweh.  This  name  (Yau-bani)  is  parallel 
to  Bel-bani,  in  which  ‘Bel’  is  certainly  a divine  element. 
The  natural  inference  is  therefore  that  Yau  represents 
a divine  name.  If  such  a god  was  known  in  Babylonia  in 
the  Kassite  period,  this  would  strengthen  the  presumption 
that  the  names  which  we  have  passed  in  review  from  the 
time  of  Hammurabi’s  dynasty  contain  it  also. 

It  has  been  contended  that  the  name  Yahweh  as  an  ele- 
ment in  a proper  name  occurs  in  Babylonia  still  earlier.  In 
a text  published  by  T'hureau-Dangin,  a granddaughter  of 
the  king  Naram-Sin  bears  a name  which  may  be  read  Lipush- 
Iaum,29  ‘ May  Iaum  make.’  Radau,30  Burney,31  and  Clay 32 
all  regard  this  as  an  occurrence  of  Yahweh.  Rogers 33 
with  more  caution  holds  that  it  is  doubtful,  and  that  possibly 
Ea  is  referred  to.  It  woidd  certainly  be  rash  to  assert  that 
this  name  is  proof  that  Yahweh  as  a divine  name  was  known 
among  the  immediate  descendants  of  Naram-Sin,  but  it  is 
clearly  possible  that  such  may  be  the  case.  As  Zimmern  has 
noted  (Keilinsehriften  und  das  Alte  Testament,  p.  468,  ed.  3), 
these  names  in  which  Yahweh  appears  to  occur  in  Babylonia 
are  all  borne  by  foreigners.  In  reality  we  cannot  be  sure 
that  these  Babylonian  names  refer  to  a god  at  all  until  we 
find  such  names  as  Arad-Ya,  Arad- Yau,  Arad-Yama,  Arad- 
Yaba,  Arad-Yapa,  in  which  the  last  element  is  preceded  by 
the  determinative  for  god.34  In  the  absence  of  decisive 
evidence,  however,  a presumption  that  they  contain  a 
divine  name  has  been  established,  and  some  probability 
that  that  divine  element  is  identical  with  the  divine  name 
which  we  know  as  Yahweh. 

In  addition  to  these  Babylonian  occurrences,  it  is  thought 
that  the  name  Yahweh  occurs  in  the  name  Akhi-yami, 
which  is,  as  the  Murashu  texts  show,  the  Babylonian  way 
of  writing  Ahijah.  The  name  occurs  on  a tablet  found  at 

29  See  the  Comptes  Rendus  of  the  Paris  Academie  des  Inscriptions  et  Belles 
Lettres,  1899,  p.  348,  pi.  1.  The  reading  Iaum  is  not  altogether  certain.  I is 
expressed  by  an  unusual  sign.  30  Early  Babylonian  History,  p.  173. 

31  Journal  of  Theological  Studies,  9.  342.  32  Amurru,  p.  90. 

33  Religion  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  p.  94,  n.  1. 

34  Such  names  as  Arad-ya-um  (Babylonian  Expedition,  15.  no.  120.  1.  2)  and 
Arad-ya-u  (ibid.  17.  no.  48.  1.  9)  do  not  fulfil  this  condition,  as  they  lack  the 
determinative. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


191 


Taanach  which  was  written  between  1400  and  1300  b.c.35 
It  has  long  been  supposed  that  Yahweh  is  the  first  element 
in  the  name  of  Yau-bi’di,  a king  of  Hamath36  who  was  over- 
thrown by  Sargon  II.,  and  it  has  been  supposed  that  the 
presence  of  these  names  in  Palestine  and  Syria  as  well  as  in 
Babylonia  is  proof  that  the  divine  name  Yahweh  was  not 
the  peculiar  possession  of  Israel,  but  belonged  also  to  widely 
scattered  Semites.37  Of  course  the  same  uncertainty  attaches 
to  the  names  Yau-bi’di  and  Akhi-yama  as  to  the  names  pre- 
viously discussed;  but  in  case  the  name  Yahweh  is  really 
represented  in  these  forms,  how  are  we  to  account  for  its 
presence  ? 

The  analogy  of  the  use  of  other  divine  names  among  the 
Semites  would  lead  us  to  look  for  the  explanation  in  the  use 
of  some  common  epithet,  rather  than  in  the  worship  of  the 
same  deity.  Thus  it  has  long  been  recognized  that  the  names 
Ishtar,  Ashtar,  Attar,  Athtar,  Astar,  Ashtart,  and  Ash- 
toreth  found  in  the  various  parts  of  the  Semitic  world  are 
the  same  name,  and  that  they  are  applied  to  deities  so  nearly 
alike  that  the  epithet  in  which  the  name  originated  was  ap- 
propriate, but  that  the  deities  were  not  identical.38  Athtar, 
worshipped  in  South  Arabia,  had  no  relationship  to  Ashtart, 
worshipped  at  Sidon,  except  the  kinship  due  to  a common, 
though  far-away,  origin.  Similarly  the  term  Baal,  applied 
so  often  to  Canaanite  gods,  is  kindred  to  Bel,  which  was 
applied  to  Babylonian  deities.  The  deities  were  not,  how- 
ever, identical.  Thus  also  Shamash,  worshipped  at  Agade, 
Shamash, worshipped  at  Larsa,  Shemesh,  worshipped  at  Beth- 
Shemesh,  and  Shams,  a goddess  worshipped  in  South 
Arabia,39  all  bear  the  same  name,  but  are  clearly  not  identical. 
Analogy  would  accordingly  lead  us  to  suppose  that  a divine 
name  which  apparently  was  used  in  Babylonia  in  the  time 
of  Hammurabi,  in  the  Kassite  period,  and  possibly  in  the 
family  of  Naram-Sin,  also  at  Taanach,  at  Hamath,  and 
among  the  Ivenites  of  the  peninsula  of  Sinai,  as  well  as  by 
the  Hebrews,  was,  like  these  other  names,  an  epithet  that 

35  See  Sellin’s  Tell  Ta'annek,  p.  115,  no.  2.  2 and  p.  121.  no.  2.  2. 

30  See  e.g.  Keilinschriften  und  das  Alte  Testament,  p.  66  (3d  ed.). 

37  So  Rogers,  Religion  of  Babylonia  and  Assyria,  p.  95. 

38  See  e.g.  Hebraica,  10.  68,  and  the  writer’s  Semitic  Origins,  chapter  iii. 

39  Cf.  Mordtmann  and  Muller’s  Sabaische  Denkmaler,  no.  13. 


192 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


could  be  applied  to  different  gods  — deities  which  may  have 
had  a common  origin  and  similar  characteristics,  but  which 
were  not  identical.  No  one  can  study  Semitic  religion  com- 
prehensively without  being  impressed  with  the  fact  that  all 
native  Semitic  deities  are  in  origin  closely  connected  with 
the  primitive  Xshtars.  In  some  instances  the  goddess  her- 
self seems  to  have  turned  into  a masculine  deity,  as  in  the 
case  of  Athtar  in  South  Arabia ; in  some  instances  the  god 
who  in  primitive  times  was  Ishtar’s  son  has  assumed  a posi- 
tion superior  to  Ishtar  or  independent  of  her ; and  in  some 
instances  the  gods  or  spirits  who  in  the  primitive  polyan- 
drous  society  were  thought  of  as  Ishtar’s  loosely  married 
husbands,  have  undergone  a development  more  or  less  inde- 
pendent of  the  goddess  herself.40  As  Semitic  tribes  migrated 
and  settled  in  new  environments,  their  deities  naturally  took 
on  many  new  functions  or  attributes  from  the  new  surround- 
ings. As  empires  brought  different  tribes  or  cities  into 
political  unity,  pantheons  were  formed,  and  in  course  of  time 
special  functions  were  assigned  to  different  gods ; but  in  the 
case  of  many  deities,  and  these  the  most  prominent,  one  can 
still  trace,  in  the  characteristics  of  the  god,  in  the  hymns  that 
are  sung  to  him,  or  in  elements  of  his  ritual,  the  marks  of  his 
former  history.  In  the  case  of  the  prominent  Semitic  gods, 
the  predominant  common  feature  is  the  element  of  fertility, 
accentuated  in  the  fashion  peculiar  to  the  Semites.  This 
feature  is  the  link  connecting  these  deities  with  their  common 
source.  This  source  was  common  in  the  sense  that  the 
different  tribes  were  moulded  by  a similar  environment  and 
developed  similar  social  and  religious  institutions,  not  that 
all  the  gods  were  descended  from  one  goddess  and  her 
polvandrous  family. 

There  are  features  connected  with  the  worship  of  Yahweh 
in  Israel  and  conceptions  concerning  him  which  clearly 
connect  him  with  this  common  Semitic  source.  He  was  the 
god  of  fertility,  the  god  who  ‘opened  the  womb  ’;41  to  him 
an  oath  was  taken  by  putting  the  hand  ‘under  the  thigh.'  42 

40  See  the  writer’s  Semitic  Origins,  pp.  87,  125  ft.,  133  ft.,  190  ft.,  289  ft. ; Biblical 
World,  24.  169.  n.  3 ; Paton,  American  Journal  of  Semitic  Languages,  19.  57. 

41  Cf.  Genesis  xxix.  31,  xxx.  22,  xlix.  25 ; Exodus  xiii.  2;  Psalm  cxxvii.  3;  etc. 

42  Genesis  xxiv.  9. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


193 


Yahweh’s  autumn  festival  was  preceded  by  a wailing,  which 
was  probably  a survival  of  an  earlier  wailing  for  the  son  of 
the  old  mother  goddess,  variously  called  Tammuz,  Adonis, 
and  Dhu-l-Shara  in  different  parts  of  the  Semitic  world.43 
If  other  Semitic  peoples  really  had  gods  called  Yaliweh,  these 
were  probably  sufficiently  similar  to  the  Yaliweh  of  early 
Israel,  either  in  origin  or  in  nature,  to  permit  the  epithet 
Yahweh,  whatever  it  may  mean,  to  be  applied  to  them. 
As  already  noted,  the  analogies  of  other  deities  show  that  this 
is  the  nearest  approach  to  identity  that  it  is  necessary  to 
assume. 

Two  consequences  seem  to  follow  from  the  foregoing  con- 
siderations. We  should  probably  look  for  the  origin  of  the 
name  Yahweh  in  some  early  home  of  Northern  Semites  in 
Arabia,  whence  migrations  occurred  to  Babylonia,  Palestine, 
Sinai,  and  Hamath ; and  we  should  expect  that  name  to 
denote  some  feature  of  deity  as  the  giver  of  fertility.  Not 
much  importance  can  be  attached  to  an  argument  from  the 
etymology  of  the  Tetragrammaton,  as  so  many  origins  have 
been  suggested  only  to  be  shown  inadequate.44  Neverthe- 
less, one  etymology  which  has  been  suggested  several  times  45 
is  so  in  harmony  with  the  conditions  to  which  the  above  con- 
siderations point,  that  in  the  light  of  our  present  knowledge 
it  seems  possible  that  it  is  correct.46  This  etymology  derives 
the  name  Yahweh  from  the  Arabic  verb  hawiya,  ‘he  loved 
passionately,’  ‘he  desired.’  This  would  give  a meaning  so 
suitable  to  a god  of  fertility  that  the  epithet  might  easily 
stick  to  the  numina  of  tribes  that  migrated  from  the  region 
where  it  was  first  used  to  widely  separated  centres.  Natu- 
rally it  would  be  interpreted  by  the  Hebrews  in  later  times 
as  a Hebrew  word. 

These  early  occurrences  of  the  name  Yahweh  in  Babylonia, 
if  they  are  real,  do  not  necessarily  imply  that  the  deity  wor- 
shipped in  the  time  of  Hammurabi  was  the  same  as  that 
afterwards  possessed  by  the  Israelites,  but  only  that  the  name 


43  Cf.  W.  R.  Smith,  Religion  of  the  Semites,  pp.  411  ff.,  especially  414  (2d  ed. ) ; 
Semitic  Origins,  p.  289.  44  Cf.  Semitic  Origins,  p.  282,  n.  5. 

45  For  instance,  in  The  Nation,  75  (1902).  15. 

46  The  present  writer  accepted  it  when  writing  the  article  ‘Israel’  for  Hastings’s 
Dictionary  of  the  Bible  in  One  Volume;  cf.  p.  411. 


194 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


Yahweh  as  an  epithet  developed  early  in  a centre  from  which 
Semitic  tribes  migrated,  and  that  it  was,  like  Ishtar,  Baal, 
and  Shamash,  widely  used  — more  widely  than  we  have 
hitherto  supposed. 

Another  theory  that  has  found  advocates  in  recent  years 
is  that  Yahweh  was  a moon  god.  This  has  been  urged  by 
Hommel,47  implied  by  Winekler,48  in  part  accepted  by  Zim- 
mern,49  and  worked  out  at  length  by  Nielsen.50  The  proof 
for  this  view  is  sought  in  two  directions,  Mesopotamia  and 
South  Arabia.  Abraham,  who  is  said  to  have  been  called 
by  Yahweh  to  leave  Harran,  the  seat  of  the  moon  god’s 
worship,  sojourned  at  Kirjath-arba,  which  is  believed  to 
have  been  so  called  from  the  four  phases  of  the  moon,  and  at 
Beer-sheba,  the  name  of  which  betrays  as  one  of  its  elements 
the  seven  days  that  measure  a phase  of  the  moon.  The  name 
of  Abraham’s  wife,  Sarah,  is  identical  with  sarratu,  a title 
of  the  moon  goddess  at  Harran,  and  Abraham’s  sister-in- 
law  bore  a name  identical  with  malkatu,  a title  of  Ishtar, 
who  was  also  a member  of  the  pantheon  at  Harran.  The 
home  of  Yahweh  was  at  Sinai,  which  was  apparently  named 
from  the  Babylonian  moon  god  Sin.  In  addition  Nielsen 
urges  that  some  sexual  taboos  in  Leviticus  were  identical 
with  taboos  observed  in  South  Arabia,  as  shown  by  three 
bronze  tablets  which  are  inscribed  in  Sabsean  characters,51 
and  that  the  feast  of  the  new  moon  was  observed  in  Israel. 

Of  this  theory  Stade  has  remarked  52  that,  if  Yahweh  was 
a moon  god,  no  trace  of  the  fact  has  survived.  If  this  state- 
ment is  thought  too  strong,  and  the  feast  of  the  new  moon 
is  considered  such  a trace,  this  nevertheless  does  not  prove 
that  Yahweh  was  originally  a moon  god ; it  would  at  most 
show  that  at  one  period  of  his  history  he  was  for  a time 
associated  with  the  moon,  or  that  there  had  been  some  de- 
gree of  syncretism  with  a moon  deity.53  The  sexual  taboos 
cited  by  Nielsen  are  proofs  that  both  Yahweh  and  the  gods 
of  South  Arabia  were  deities  of  fertility. 

47  Aufsatze  und  Abbandlungen,  pp.  15S,  160. 

48  Geschichte  Israels,  passim.  49  Keilinsehriften,  pp.  364  ff.  (3d  ed.). 

50  Die  altarabische  Mondreligion  und  die  mosaische  Ueberlieferung. 

51  Nielsen,  op.  cit.,  pp.  206  ff. ; Leviticus  xv.  16,  17. 

62  Biblische  Theologie,  p.  42.  53  Stade,  op.  cit.,  p.  242. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


195 


Another  theory,  advocated  by  Gunkel  in  1901  and  1905  54 
and  by  Eduard  Meyer  in  1906, 55  is  that  Yahweh  was  a 
volcano  god.  This  view  is  based  on  the  description  of  the 
appearance  of  Yahweh  on  Sinai  at  the  time  of  the  making 
of  the  covenant  with  Israel  (Exodus  xix.  18), 56  when  the 
smoke  ascended  as  the  smoke  of  a furnace  and  the  whole 
mountain  quaked  greatly,  — a description  which  admirably 
suits  a volcanic  eruption.  Recollection  of  this  volcanic 
eruption  is  also  found  in  Deuteronomy  vv.  4 ff.,  22  ff. ; ix.  15. 
Gunkel  had  noted  54  that  the  account  of  the  destruction  of 
Sodom  and  the  cities  of  the  plain  says  this  was  accomplished 
by  fire  and  brimstone,  and  makes  no  mention  of  the  Dead 
Sea;  hence  he  reasoned  that  the  story  was  not  native  to 
this  locality,  but  had  been  brought  here  from  elsewhere,  — 
as  he  believed,  from  the  northeast  coast  of  the  Red  Sea. 
The  story  affords  Meyer  further  proof  of  the  connection  of 
Yahweh  with  a volcano. 

There  are  in  Arabia  extensive  regions  of  volcanic  rock 
which  the  Arabs  call  Harrats,  and  a number  of  Arabian 
writers  have  described  them.  In  1868  Loth  published  57 
a description  of  them  gathered  from  Yaqut’s  Geography, 
and  Meyer,  making  use  of  this  article,  concludes  that  the 
original  volcanic  Sinai  was  one  of  those  nearest  to  Syria 
on  the  road  from  Tebuk  by  Medina  to  Mecca.  He  says 
that  nothing  stands  in  the  way  of  the  supposition  that  one 
of  these  volcanic  peaks  may  have  been  active  within  the 
historic  period,  even  though  no  mention  is  made  of  it  in  saga 
or  literature.  Meyer  appears  to  have  overlooked  the  fact 
that  in  Wiistenfeld’s  translation  of  Samhudi’s  History  of 
the  City  of  Medina  58  there  is  material  which  more  con- 
vincingly supports  his  theory.  The  Harrat  Khaibar,  north 
of  Medina,  is  called  the  Harrat  Ndr,  or  Fire  Harrat.  Its 
name  implies  that  volcanic  activity  has  taken  place  there 

64  ‘Genesis,’  p.  195,  in  Nowack’s  Handkommentar;  Ausgewahlte  Psalmen, 
pp.  80  ff.,  117,  180  ff.  66  Die  Israeliten  und  ihre  Nachbarstamme,  pp.  69  ff. 

56  The  volcanic  nature  of  Sinai  is  also  advocated  by  Haupt  in  his  article  ‘ Midian 
and  Sinai,’  Zeitschrift  der  Deutschen  Morgenlandischen  Gesellschaft,  63  (1909). 
506-530. 

67  Zeitschrift  der  Deutschen  Morgenlandischen  Gesellschaft,  22.  365-382. 

68  Cf.  Abhandlungen  der  koniglichen  Gesellschaft  der  Wissenschaften  zu  Gottin- 
gen, 9.  18. 


196 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


within  the  memory  of  man.  It  is  an  extensive  traet,  over 
one  hundred  miles  long  and  in  some  parts  thirty  miles  wide 
— a wilderness  of  lava  and  lava  stones,  with  many  extinct 
craters  of  volcanoes.  Igneous  rocks  of  various  sorts  abound, 
and  in  some  places  the  lava  beds  are  six  hundred  feet  deep. 
Signs  of  volcanic  action  are  still  seen  at  Khaibar,  smoke  issu- 
ing from  the  crevices  and  steam  from  the  summit  of  Gebel 
Ethan.  Samhudi  reports  a volcanic  eruption  here  in  March, 
1256  a.d.,  which  lasted  two  days.  The  earthquakes  were 
felt  at  Medina,  and  the  smoke  darkened  that  city.59  Meyer 
may  therefore  be  right  in  claiming  that  in  the  narratives 
of  the  Hebrews  we  have  traditions  of  volcanic  eruption. 
Such  a tradition  would,  however,  seem  to  be  more  certainly 
present  in  the  story  of  the  destruction  of  Sodom  than  in  the 
story  of  the  descent  of  Yahweh  upon  Sinai,  for  this  last  ac- 
count might  be  an  exaggerated  description  of  a thunder-storm. 

If  there  are  volcanic  elements  in  the  traditions  of 
Yahweh,  it  is  not  certain  that  we  need  to  go  so  far  afield 
as  Arabia  for  them.  Ellsworth  Huntington,  Palestine 
and  its  Transformation,  1911,  pp.  195  ff.,  believes  that  he 
found  near  Suweimeli  on  the  east  side  of  the  Dead  Sea 
sufficient  evidence  of  volcanic  activity  to  account  for  the 
story  of  Sodom. 

Of  course  if  a people  lived  for  a time  near  a volcano,  they 
would  naturally  take  its  activity  for  the  activity  of  their 
god ; and  this  would  introduce  volcanic  elements  into  the 
traditions  concerning  the  god.  In  the  case  of  Yahweh, 
however,  even  if  it  be  admitted  that  there  are  volcanic 
elements  discernible,  they  are  few.  The  elements  of  fertility 
connected  with  the  conceptions  of  him  are  more  abundant 
and  probably  earlier.  He  cannot  accordingly  be  fully 
accounted  for  as  the  god  of  a volcano. 

Another  theory  of  the  origin  of  Yahweh  must  be  men- 
tioned, on  account  of  its  recent  advocacy.  Stade  in  1889 
urged  many  reasons  for  supposing  that  Yahweh  was  origi- 
nally a storm  god.60  This  view  the  writer  once  held,61  but 

69  See  Zwemer,  Arabia  and  the  Cradle  of  Islam,  p.  23.  Zwemer  calculates  the 
date  rightly;  Wiistenfeld  incorrectly  counts  Gumada  a.h.  654  as  March,  1169, 
instead  of  1256.  60  Geschichte  des  Volkes  Israel,  1.  429  ff. 

61  Oriental  Studies  of  the  Oriental  Club  of  Philadelphia,  pp.  86  ff. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


197 


he  afterward  saw  that  it  was  inadequate  to  account  for  all 
the  conceptions  connected  with  Yahweh.62  It  has  however 
been  recently  revived  by  Dr.  Ward  in  an  article  published 
in  the  American  Journal  of  Semitic  Languages,63  and  made 
the  basis  of  a theory  of  the  origin  of  the  worship  of  Yahweh. 
The  god  Adad  or  Hadad  as  pictured  on  seals  and  in  other 
forms  of  art  which  come  from  Babylonia  and  Western  Asia 
is  portrayed  as  carrying  a thunderbolt ; as  a god  of  war  he 
carries  a bow,  club,  and  spear ; and  as  a god  of  agriculture 
or  fertility  he  is  represented  as  leading  a bull.  The  references 
to  Yahweh  in  the  Old  Testament  frequently  represent  him 
as  coming  upon  the  clouds  and  in  a thunderstorm ; he  was 
the  god  of  armies  — a man  of  war ; images  of  bulls  were 
made  to  him  of  gold.  These  resemblances  led  Dr.  Ward  to 
conclude  that  Adad  was  the  pagan  Yahweh  before  be- 
coming the  universal  god  of  monotheism,  and  he  offers  this 
as  a more  probable  theory  than  that  Yahweh  was  the 
“utterly  unknown  god  of  the  Kenites  of  Moses’  time.” 

This  theory  is  evidently  a very  tempting  one  to  Professor 
Clay,  who  holds  that  the  name  Yahweh  as  it  is  found  in 
Babylonia  is  of  Aramaean  or  Amorite  origin,  and  that  the 
tradition  that  Abraham  was  an  Aramaean  from  Harran  shows 
that  Yahweh  was  an  Aramaean  deity.  He  does  not,  however, 
fully  commit  himself  to  the  view  that  Yahweh  was  a Hadad.64 

Dr.  Ward  has  rendered  a real  service  in  calling  our  atten- 
tion to  the  rich  material  which  his  special  subject,  Babylonian 
and  Hittite  seals,  has  to  contribute  to  our  understanding  of 
the  various  gods  which  were  called  Adad  or  Hadad ; but 
the  theory  itself  is  not  a satisfactory  solution  of  the  known 
facts  concerning  either  Hadad  or  Yahweh.  Its  author  has 
not  given  due  weight  to  some  of  the  facts  which  he  himself 
presents.  A people  unskilled  in  art  might  represent  their 
god  by  a picture  borrowed  from  a neighboring  people  with- 
out having  borrowed  their  god  at  all.  Both  the  scholars 
who  advocate  the  Aramaean  origin  of  Yahweh  have  over- 
looked one  very  important  factor  which  is  deeply  embedded 
in  our  Biblical  sources,  viz.  the  positive  testimony  to  the 
Kenite  origin  of  Yahweh.  This  is  treated  more  fully  below. 


62  Semitic  Origins,  pp.  279  ff. 


63  25.  175-187. 


M Amurru,  pp.  86-90. 


198 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


Dr.  Ward  rightly  recognizes  that  Hadad  was  not  a storm 
god  pure  and  simple,  but  also  a god  of  fertility  and  a god  of 
war.  He  recognizes  that  the  Hadads  were  of  composite 
origin  and  were  the  tribal  gods  of  henotheistic  clans.  His 
general  outline  is  in  close  harmony  with  that  made  by  the 
present  writer  in  1901, 65  although  from  his  new  material  he 
now  rightly  emphasizes  the  war-god  characteristics  of  the 
Hadads  as  was  not  possible  before.  It  is  however  a defect 
in  his  argument  that  he  fails  to  recognize  that  the  Hadads 
themselves  were  not  borrowed  from  one  another,  but  were 
the  product  of  similar  origins  and  developments.  They 
probably  originated  in  a desert  and  oasis  environment  as 
the  tribal  deities  of  henotheistic  elans,  and  in  doing  all  that 
a god  ought  to  do  for  their  tribes  they  naturally  became 
gods  of  war ; also,  when  these  tribes  moved  into  lands  where 
the  necessary  water  came  from  the  clouds  and  not  from 
springs,  the  deities  were  naturally  thought  to  express  them- 
selves in  storms,  and  in  the  thunder  and  lightning  which  ac- 
companies rain.66  This  view  is  supported  by  the  fact  that 
springs  were  sacred  to  Hadad,  and  that  as  Adad  in  Baby- 
lonia 67  he  is  associated  with  Ishtar,  and  at  Mabug  with 
i\.ttar.68 

Indeed,  as  the  Semitic  people  were  a practical  folk  and  not 
given  to  abstractions  like  the  people  of  India,  it  is  doubtful 
whether  even  in  Babylonia  the  gods  were  at  the  beginning 
more  closely  associated  with  the  sun,  moon,  earth,  sea,  and 
wind  than  in  ether  parts  of  the  Semitic  world.  That  is,  it 
is  doubtful  whether  we  have  any  case  of  what  Bloomfield 
calls  for  India  a transparent  god.69  A study  of  the  hymns 
addressed  to  various  Babylonian  gods  tends  to  show  that 
all  Semitic  and  even  Sumerian  deities  originated  as  tribal 
gods,  connected  in  one  way  or  another  with  all  the  activities 

65  Semitic  Origins,  pp.  225-229. 

66  This  is  in  substance  the  origin  of  Hadad  as  sketched  by  the  writer  in  1901 
( loc . cit.).  The  account  of  the  god  which  Dr.  Ward  gives  confirms  the  probability 
of  this  origin.  He  adds  from  the  seals  the  war-god  feature;  otherwise  liis  sketch 
accords  fully  with  mine.  The  seals  were  inaccessible  to  me. 

67  As  in  the  city  of  Lulubi ; see  Recueil  de  Travaux,  14.  100-106. 

68  Cf.  Lucian,  De  Syria  Dea,  §§  14,  31.  The  god  is  here  called  Zeus,  but  he  stands 
on  a bull  and  so  is  probably  Hadad. 

69  Meaning  by  the  term  a god  that  is  clearly  the  deification  of  a natural  phe- 
nomenon, like  the  sky  or  sun.  See  Bloomfield,  Religion  of  the  Veda,  chapter  iv. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


199 


of  a tribal  deity,  and  that  the  later  special  association  given 
them  with  different  functions  of  nature  or  different  planets, 
and  the  different  spheres  assigned  to  them,  never  quite  sup- 
pressed the  traces  of  their  origin.70 

If  then  we  have  regard  to  the  development  of  Semitic 
deities  in  general,  and  especially  to  the  development  of  Hadad, 
there  is  no  convincing  proof  in  the  facts  adduced  in  support 
of  the  theory  that  Yahweh  is  derived  from  Hadad.  If  an 
Arabian  tribe  of  Midianites  whose  tribal  god  of  fertility 
was  Yahweh  engaged  in  wars,  as  they  no  doubt  did,  Yahweh 
would  inevitably  become  a god  of  war.  If  they  moved  for 
a time  to  the  peninsula  of  Sinai  or  had  that  as  a part  of  the 
tract  where  they  roamed,  their  god  would  inevitably  become 
the  god  of  storms,  thunder,  and  lightning,  for  severe  thunder 
storms  occur  there  to  the  present  day.71  The  Kenite  theory 
of  the  origin  of  Yahweh  supplies  all  the  conditions  necessary 
to  account  for  all  the  resemblances  which  have  been  urged. 
When  we  remember  that  it  was  in  all  probability  similarity 
of  conditions  alone  which  created  the  resemblance  between 
Hadad  and  the  Hittite  storm  god  (for  here  there  can  hardly 
have  been  borrowing)  the  evidence  adduced  for  the  Hadad 
theory  turns  out  to  be  only  evidence  for  the  Kenite  theory 
of  Yahweh’s  origin. 

This  view,  moreover,  seems  to  be  forced  upon  us  when  we 
turn  our  attention  to  the  second  consideration  mentioned 
above.  This  is  the  fact  that  the  only  positive  testimony  we 


70  That  Nergal,  one  of  the  sun  gods,  was  also  a god  of  fertility,  is  shown  by  some 
lines  of  a hymn  translated  in  King’s  Babylonian  Magic,  p.  89  (lines  9,  10),  and  by 
Bollenriicher,  Gebete  und  Hymnen  an  Nergal,  p.  15  (lines  9,  10).  That  this  holds 
good  for  the  moon  god  Sin  is  shown  by  Cuneiform  Texts,  17.  15,  translated  by  Perry, 
Hymnen  an  Sin,  p.  17 ; by  Vanderburgh,  Sumerian  Hymns,  p.  43;  and  by  Langdon, 
Sumerian  and  Babylonian  Psalms,  p.  297.  Vanderburgh’s  rendering  brings  out  the 
thought  most  clearly.  In  another  hymn  Adad  is  a bull  god,  which  clearly  connects 
him  with  agriculture  and  fertility,  although  the  rest  of  the  hymn  is  occupied  with 
his  power  in  storm,  lightning,  and  thunder.  Cf.  Cuneiform  Texts,  15.  15.  19,  trans- 
lated by  Vanderburgh,  op.  cit.,  p.  56,  and  by  Langdon,  op.  cit.,  p.  283.  Again  the  first 
of  these  translations  is  to  be  preferred.  That  Ishtar  was  primarily  a goddess  of 
life  and  only  loosely  associated  with  the  planet  Venus  is  too  patent  to  need  illustra- 
tion. Even  Anu,  who  seems  of  all  the  Babylonian  gods  most  like  an  abstraction, 
was  also  a god  of  fertility,  as  the  name  Anu-banini,  ‘ Anu  is  our  begetter,  ’ shows. 
Nidaba,  the  grain  deity  of  Umma,  can  hardly  have  been  an  exception,  as  she  was  the 
tribal  deity  of  a city.  The  one  exception,  Gibil,  the  fire  god,  is  not  a primitive 
deity.  71  See  Agnes  Smith  Lewis  in  the  Expository  Times,  17.  394. 


200 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


have  in  the  Bible  as  to  where  Yahweh  came  from,  is  that  he 
came  from  Horeb,  and  that  Jethro,  who  is  sometimes  called 
a priest  of  Midian  and  sometimes  a Kenite,  offered  the  sacri- 
fice which  initiated  the  Hebrew  leaders  into  his  worship.72 
This  positive  tradition  of  the  fact  that  Israel  first  learned 
the  worship  of  Yahweh  in  Horeb,  the  country  of  the  Midi- 
anites,  is  found  in  the  North  Israelitish  document  of  the 
Pentateuch  — from  the  very  part  of  Israel  in  winch  presum- 
ably Aramaeans  from  Harran  would  be  most  likely  to  settle, 
and  in  which  the  Biblical  traditions  from  Aramaean  elements 
would  therefore  be  most  abundant.  It  is  only  in  Judah, 
where  the  Kenites  settled,  that  the  impression  prevailed  that 
the  name  Yahweh  had  been  known  from  time  immemorial. 
This  testimony  is  strengthened  by  the  fact  that  the  earliest 
proper  name  in  the  Old  Testament  in  which  Yahweh  appears 
as  an  element  is  Jochebed,  the  mother  of  Moses,  who  may 
have  been  a Kenite.  There  is  abundant  evidence  in  the 
Pentateuch  that  the  Israelites  recognized  that  they  had  an 
Aramaean  inheritance  in  their  blood,  and  that  in  the  stories 
of  Abraham  they  traced  a part  of  that  inheritance  to  Harran. 
Since  Aramaeans  formed  a part  of  the  Israelitish  nation,  it 
would  be  natural  that  they  should  fuse  some  of  the  ideas 
that  they  formerly  entertained  of  their  god  with  their  ideas 
of  Yahweh,  but  we  have  no  evidence  that  these  particular 
Aramaeans  worshipped  Hadad  at  all.  Not  all  Aramaeans 
had  him  for  their  god.  Zkr,  for  example,  worshipped  the  god 
Alor  or  Alur,73  and  at  Harran  the  god  of  whom  we  actually 
know  was  the  moon  god  Sin.  There  is  no  evidence  to  con- 
nect the  Yahweh  which  is  perhaps  an  element  in  Babylonian 
proper  names  with  Harran,  nor  is  there  any  which  connects 
Adad  with  Harran.  To  suppose  then  that  if  Abraham  came 
from  Harran  he  worshipped  Adad  under  the  name  Yahweh 
is  pure  assumption.  The  testimony  of  the  document  which 
was  treasured  as  their  book  of  origins  by  the  North  Israelites, 
the  very  Israelites  who  had  in  them  the  Aramaean  strain  in 
its  greatest  purity  and  who  lived  in  closest  contact  with  the 
Aramaeans,  that  the  name  Yahweh  came  from  Kenite  Horeb, 

72  See  Exodus  iii.  1 ff. ; Judges  i.  16  ; Exodus  xviii.  12. 

73  See  Pognon,  Inscriptions  Semitiques  de  la  Syrie,  de  la  Mesopotamie  et  de  la 
region  de  Mossoul,  no.  86. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


201 


must,  so  far  as  I can  see,  be  decisive,74  unless  we  assume  that 
they  themselves  knew  nothing  about  the  matter.  We  do 
violence  to  the  one  bit  of  information  that  they  have  given 
us  on  the  point,  if  we  seek  the  origin  of  the  name  Yahweh 
as  it  was  applied  to  the  god  of  Israel  anywhere  but  among  the 
Kenites.  So  far  from  being  the  “utterly  unknown  god  of  the 
Kenites,”  Yahweh’s  adoption  by  Israel  has  made  him  in 
some  ways  the  best  known  of  all  Semitic  deities.  As  he 
appears  in  the  early  days  after  Israel  adopted  his  worship 
he  is  a god  of  fertility,  a god  of  war,  and  a god  whose  voice 
is  the  thunder.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  we  could  know 
any  more  about  him  if  we  had  his  picture  on  a few  seals. 
We  do  not  know  so  much  concerning  any  single  Hadad. 

It  remains  to  mention  one  other  theory.  Professor  Haupt, 
in  the  Orientalische  Literaturzeitung,  12.  cols.  21 1-214, 75 
holds  that  Yahweh  was  originally  the  god  Esau  of  Edom, 
from  which  country  he  was  borrowed  by  the  Israelites. 
The  real  arguments  advanced  in  support  of  this  view,  apart 
from  those  which  are  secured  by  emendations  of  the  text, 
are  that  in  the  song  of  Deborah  Yahweh  is  said  to  have 
marched  from  Seir  and  Edom  (Judges  v.  4)  and  that  the  name 
Yahweh  is  a late  priestly  translation  of  Esau.  Esau,  from 
TOV,  he  interprets  as  meaning  ‘creator,’  and  Yahweh 
he  interprets  as  a hiphil  of  iTH,  meaning  ‘ he  who  causes 
to  be’  or  ‘he  who  brings  into  being.’  This  etymology  of 
Yahweh  is  not  new,  having  been  held  by  Le  Clerc,  Gesenius, 
Schrader,  Baudissin,  Schultz,  Kuenen,  Lagarde,  and  for- 
merly by  the  present  writer.76  To  regard  it  as  a translation 
of  Esau  is  however  new.  This  theory  of  the  origin  of  Yahweh 
is  unsatisfactory  for  the  following  reasons : 

1.  It  is  directly  contrary  to  the  testimony  of  the  E docu- 
ment, already  discussed  on  page  199  f.,  that  Yahweh  was 
a Kenite-Midianite  deity. 

2.  There  is  no  real  evidence  that  Esau  was  a god  at  all. 

74  This  testimony  is  not  invalidated  even  if  one  should,  with  Eerdmans,  Alt- 
testamentliehe  Studien,  regard  the  Elohim  of  the  document  as  polytheistic.  The 
present  writer  is  not,  however,  convinced  of  the  correctness  of  this  view. 

76  Cf.  also  his  article,  Zeitschrift  der  Deutschen  Morgenlandischen  Gesellschaft, 
63.  506  ff. 

76  Semitic  Origins,  p.  282,  n.  5,  and  the  references  given  under  § 4 of  the  note. 


202 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


So  far  as  the  evidence  of  theophorous  proper  names  goes, 
Edom  was  the  god  of  the  Edomites  as  the  name  Obed-Edom 
witnesses,  but  I know  of  no  name  in  which  Esau  appears 
as  a theophorous  element.  There  is  the  name  'Asayah 
(’T5??)  which  occurs  in  2 Kings  xxii.  14,  and  which  the 
Chronicler  has  thrust  into  the  older  genealogies  of  the  Levites 
and  Simeonites  (1  Chronicles  iv.  36,  vi.  15  (Eng.  30),  ix.  5), 
but  it  more  naturally  means  ‘Yau  has  created’  than  ‘ Yau 
is  Esau.’  There  is  also  the  name  ‘God  has 

created,’  a brother  of  Joab  (2  Samuel  ii.  18,  etc.),  as  well  as 
which  the  Chronicler  has  added  to  Simeonite  clans 
(1  Chronicles  iv.  35),  but  in  these  as  in  the  other,  ntfj?  is 
a verbal  element. 

3.  Historically  it  would  seem  impossible  that  such  borrow- 
ing could  have  occurred.  The  Kenizzites,of  whom  theCaleb- 
ites  were  a clan,  may  have  become  in  part  an  Edomite 
tribe,  but  the  absorption  of  a part  of  that  tribe  into  Judah77 
is  no  proof  that  Yahweh  and  Esau  were  identical. 

4.  Etymologies  are  at  most  only  proof  that  a thing  is 
possible.  To  show  that  what  etymologically  is  possible 
was  in  history  a fact  we  must  depend  upon  other  evidence, 
and  in  this  case  such  evidence  is  wanting. 

5.  The  expression  in  the  Song  of  Deborah  is  not  proof  that 
Yahweh  was  borrowed  from  Edom,  but  only  that  his  home 
was  in  a region  beyond  Edom.  It  would  fit  Meyer’s  vol- 
canic Sinai  in  Arabia  as  well  as  Edom.  We  cannot  suppose 
that  geographical  names  were  used  in  such  ancient  poetry 
with  absolute  geographical  exactness. 

The  Esau  theory,  therefore,  like  the  Hadad  theory,  lacks 
support.  It  is  of  course  true  that  Yahweh  and  the  god  Edom 
were  both  Semitic  deities  and  had  a similar  origin.  Both 
were  tribal  gods ; probably  both  were  gods  of  fertility ; and 
as  the  kindred  clans  lived  in  neighboring  regions,  probably 
both  underwent  a similar  development  as  gods  of  war  and 
of  storm;  but  more  than  this  cannot  safely  be  asserted. 

While  the  evidence  of  the  Bible  clearly  indicates  that  the 
name  Yahweh  came  into  Israel  from  the  Kenites,  it  is  of 
course  true  that  in  a nation,  like  Israel,  formed  of  composite 

77  See  the  article  ‘Kenizzites’  in  Hastings’s  Dictionary  of  the  Bible  in  One 
Volume. 


GEORGE  AARON  BARTON 


203 


elements,  there  would  be  legends  concerning  Yahweh  which 
came  from  different  sources.  The  ritual  practices  of  his  cult 
as  well  as  the  emblems  by  which  he  was  represented  may  also 
have  come  from  many  quarters.  The  history  of  Christianity 
both  in  Europe  and  in  the  East  affords  numerous  instances 
of  the  transfer  of  feasts,  legends,  and  practices  of  an  old  cult 
to  a new  religion.  Since  the  Midianites  in  their  nomadic 
wanderings  penetrated  for  some  distance  into  the  Arabian 
desert,78  it  is  possible  that  Israel  took  over  with  the  worship 
of  Yahweh  the  traditions  to  which  residence  near  a volcano 
had  given  rise  among  the  Kenites.  The  introduction  of 
the  feast  of  the  new  moon  may  possibly  have  been  due, 
like  the  stories  of  Abraham’s  migration,  to  the  influx  of 
Aramaeans  from  Harran,  where  the  god  Sin  was  wor- 
shipped, though  it  is  quite  as  possible  that  it  came  from 
Arabia,  or  that  it  originated  independently.  That  the 
Canaanitish  beliefs  and  practices  which  were  absorbed  by 
Israel  after  the  settlement  in  Palestine  contributed  Canaan- 
itish elements  to  the  pre-prophetic  conceptions  of  Yahweh, 
is  freely  claimed  by  the  prophet  Hosea  and  is  as  freely 
admitted  by  modern  scholars.  Possibly  the  Aramaeans 
and  Edomites  who  were  absorbed  into  Israel  also  con- 
tributed some  elements  to  his  cult  from  that  of  the  god 
Hadad  or  of  the  god  Esau ; but  these  are  the  two  theories 
which  seem  to  lack  all  positive  proof.  We  need  first  some 
evidence  that  the  Aramaeans  who  merged  with  Israel  had 
ever  worshipped  Hadad,  or  that  Esau  was  really  a god. 

It  seems  therefore  that  the  view  that  the  name  Yahweh 
originated  in  Arabia  and  was  carried  thence  by  some  slight 
migrations  to  Babylonia;  that  it  was  the  name  employed 
by  the  Kenites  to  designate  their  god;  that  the  Kenites 
probably  attributed  to  him  volcanic  activity ; that  wander- 
ing into  the  peninsula  of  Sinai  they  added  to  him  the  qualities 
of  a storm  god ; that  Yahweh  was  then  adopted  by  the 
Israelites,  and  some  few  elements  of  ritual  from  the  god  Sin 
of  Harran  or  some  other  moon  god  may  have  mingled  with 
the  forms  of  his  service ; and  that  the  conceptions  concern- 
ing him  as  a god  of  fertility  which  had  been  entertained 

78  See  the  articles  ‘ Midianites  ’ in  Hastings’s  Dictionaries  of  the  Bible  and  in 
the  Encyclopaedia  Biblica. 


204 


YAHWEH  BEFORE  MOSES 


from  the  beginning  were  heightened  by  association  with  the 
Baals  of  Palestine, — is  the  most  scientific  theory  concerning 
the  origin  of  Yahweh  which  we  can  at  present  frame ; for  it 
best  explains  all  the  facts  known  to  us,  and  explains  them 
in  accordance  with  what  is  known  of  the  evolution  of  Semitic 
religions.  We  may  admit  with  Marti  79  that  it  is  only  an 
hypothesis,  as  is  true  of  all  else  connected  with  Israel 
before  the  time  of  Moses,  but  it  remains  the  most  probable 
hypothesis. 

79  Die  Religion  des  Alten  Testaments  (Tubingen,  1906),  p.  6;  Religion  of  the 
Old  Testament  (London  and  New  York,  1907),  p.  17. 

Bkyn  Mawr, 

December,  1909. 


DER  SCHLUSS  DES  BUCHES  HOSEA 


Karl  Budde 
Marburg  University 

Das  schone  Stuck  Hosea  xiv.  2-9,  das  letzte  vor  der 
schriftgelehrten  Moral  (Vers  10),  wird  heute  weit  iiber- 
wiegend  dem  Propheten  Hosea  abgesprochen.  Den  Spuren 
eines  Cheyne  und  Marti  sind  in  dem  einen  Jahre  1905  Har- 
per, Stade  und  Sievers  gefolgt.  Wellhausens  Urteil,  dass 
in  xiv.  2-10  “nur  weniges  von  Hoseas  Hand  herriihren 
diirfte,”  hatte  dieser  Entwickelung  sehon  seit  langer  Zeit 
den  Weg  gebahnt.  Die  Versuche  von  Volz  und  Nowack 
einen  echten  Kern  herauszuschalen,  die  Bedenken  Drivers, 
die  ruhige  Behauptung  bei  Cornill  und  Gautier,  die  mann- 
hafte  Verteidigung  von  George  A.  Smith  fallen  der  entschie- 
denen  Ablehnung  gegeniiber  nicht  ausreichend  ins  Gewicht.1 
Man  ist  eben  gar  zu  geneigt,  der  Skepsis  den  scharferen 
Blick  zuzutrauen. 

In  Wirklichkeit  sind  die  Griinde,  die  fur  die  Echtheit  von 
Hosea  xiv.  2-9  sprechen,  sehr  stark,  die  fur  fremden  und 
spateren  Ursprung  aeusserst  schwach.  Fiir  das  Zuriick- 
kehren  zu  Jahwe  in  Vers  2,  den  grundlegenden  Begriff  des 
ganzen  Stticks,  verweist  man  auf  Jer.  iii.  12,  iv.  1 statt  auf 
Hos.  ii.  9,  v.  4,  vi.  1,  xi.  5.  Neben  dem  ersten  Satz  des 
Gelobnisses  in  Vers  4,  Verzicht  auf  die  Hiilfe  Assyriens,  der 
dureh  v.  13,  vii.  11,  viii.  9,  xii.  2 als  gut  hoseanisch  erwiesen 
wird,  besteht  man  darauf,  den  zweiten  “auf  Rossen  wollen 
wir  nicht  reiten  ” von  dem  gleichen  Verzicht  fiir  Aegypten  zu 
verstehn,  und  fiigt  hinzu,  dass  sich  der  Ausdruck  daftir  nur 

1 Am  wenigsten  Eindruek  wird  die  Verteidigung  des  Abschnitts  dureh  W. 
Staerk  machen  (Das  assyrische  Weltreich  im  Urteil  der  Propheten,  1908,  p. 
36  ff.),  da  er  es  daneben  fertig  bringt,  im  Anschluss  an  Marti  ein  unerfindbares 
Stuck  wie  Kap.  3 zu  streichen  und  Hosea,  den  Prediger  der  Liebe  Jahwes,  auf 
der  Hohe  seines  Wirkens  zuin  Vertreter  bediugungsloser  Vernichtung  zu  stempeln. 

205 


206 


DER  SCHLUSS  DES  BUCHES  HOSEA 


ous  Abhangigkeit  von  Jes.  xxx.  16  begreife.  Damit  ware 
nachhoseanische  Abfassung  erwiesen.  Aber  der  dritte  Satz, 
Verzicht  auf  Gotzendienst,  wieder  nach  Inhalt  und  Form 
durch  viii.  6,  xiii.  2,  u.  s.  w.  in  Hosea’s  Bereich  gezogen, 
beweist,  dass  von  klappendem  Parallelismus  nicht  die  Rede 
sein  kann,  dass  vielmehr  auch  der  mittlere  Satz  etwas  fiir 
sich  bedeuten  muss.  Das  aber  ist,  dem  schlichten  Wortlaut 
entsprechend,  der  Verzicht  auf  die  eigene  kriegerisehe  Macht- 
entfaltung,  mit  dem  bosen  Beigeschmack,  den  das  Streitross 
fiir  Israel  immer  gehabt  hat.  Nieht  auslandisehe  Hiilfe, 
nicht  eigene  Kraft,  nicht  die  Gunst  der  Gotzen,  das  ist  der 
Sinn  von  Vers  4a,  alles  echt  hoseanisch.  Das  Straucheln 
durch  die  eigene  Stindenschuld  in  2b  findet  sich  genau  so 
v.  5,  vgl.  iv.  5 ; zu  dem  Erbarmen  Jahwes  in  4b  vgl.  den 
Namen  der  Tochter  in  i.  8 und  dessen  Ausbeutung  in  Kap. 
ii ; zu  seinem  Heilen  (Vers  5)  v.  13,  vi.  1,  vii.  1,  xi.  3;  zu 
seiner  Liebe  ebendort  ix.  15  und  das  ganze  Buch  Hosea ; zu 
dem  Sitzen  im  Schatten  Jahwes  (Vers  8)  iv.  13  ; zu  v.  8f.  im 
ganzen,  der  Verheissung  reicher  Ernten  als  Geschenk  Jahwes, 
nicht  der  Gotzen,  ii.  7 ff.  Man  muss  in  der  Tat  sehon  mit 
Marti  Wert  darauf  legen,dass  ‘ Schoss  ’,  und  Tin,  ‘ Pracht  ’, 

nur  bei  spateren  Autoren  vorkommen,  oder  etwa  gar,  dass 
der  Oelbaum  sonst  bei  Hosea  nicht  erwahnt  wird,  und 
dass  n3ttW  als  Blumenname  sich  nur  im  Hohenlied  und 
einigen  Psalmen  findet,  um  Beweise  spaterer  Sprache  oder 
unhoseanischer  Gedanken  beizubringen. 

Das  gauze  Stuck  ist  vielmehr  so  hoseanisch  wie  moglich, 
da  es  geradezu  das  Programm  Hosea’s  enthalt,  die  Umsetz- 
ung  der  Allegorie  ii.  7 ff.  in  die  eigentliche  Aussage  von  dem 
Volke  Israel.  Die  Stelle  am  Schluss  des  Buches,  die  es  jetzt 
einnimmt,  ist  natlirlich  durchaus  unverbindlich,  da  wir 
keinerlei  Gewahr  dafiir  haben,  dass  die  iiberlieferte  Reihen- 
folge  der  Stticke  auf  Hosea  zuriickgeht,  allerlei  Verwirrung 
vielmehr  als  selbstverstandlich  vorausgesetzt  werden  muss 
und  im  einzelnen  nachgewiesen  werden  kann.  Aber  ander- 
seits  bedarf  es  auch  nicht  erst  der  Annahme,  dass  das  Stuck 
friiher  eine  andre  Stelle  eingenommen  habe,  um  seine  Eeht- 
heit  zu  verteidigen  (so  z.  B.  Smith,  Gautier,  Staerk).  Denn 
dass  Israel  Jahwes  Gnade  erfahren  werde,  wenn  es  sich,  sei 
es  jetzt  und  ganz,  sei  es  nach  schweren  Schlagen  in  seinem 


KARL  BUDDE 


207 


Reste,  zu  Jahwe  bekehre,  das  ist  Hosea’s  Glaube  und  Predigt 
bis  zu  seinem  letzten  Atemzug  geblieben  und  konnte  bei 
seinem  Einblick  in  Jahwes  Wesen  gar  nicht  anders  sein. 
Auf  Grund  dieser  Einsicht  wird  man  vielmehr  sagen  miissen, 
dass  Kapitel  xiv.  sich  viel  besser  zum  Absckluss  des  Hosea- 
buches  eignet  als  eine  Unheilsverkundigung  wie  xiii.  9-xiv.  1 
oder  gar  die  hochste  Steigerung  des  Zornes  Jahwes,  wie  sie  in 
ix.  10  ff.  einmal  auflodert. 

Und  dennoch  lasst  sich  das  Verwerfungsurteil  bei  xiv. 
2-9  leichter  begreifen  als  bei  manchen  andren  Abschnitten. 
Die  selbstverstandliche  Voraussetzung  jeder  prophetischen 
Heilsverheissung,  auch  bei  Hosea,  ist  die  Wiirdigkeit  der 
Empf anger  oder  ihre  Bekehrung  im  Fall  der  Un wiirdigkeit. 
In  Kap.  ii.  und  iii.,  auch  v.  15,  vi.  1 ff.,  ist  diese  Bekehrung 
unmissverstandlich  vorausgesagt ; in  xiv.  2-4  ist  nur  der 
Rat  dazu  erteilt,  und  darauf  folgt  in  Y.  5 ff.  die  Heilszusage 
unbedingt  und  uneingeschrankt.  Die  einzige  Begriindung 
dieser  Verheissung  bildet  die  Aussage  5b,  dass  Jahwes  Zorn 
von  Israel  gewichen  sei,  so  unvermittelt  und  nichtssagend, 
dass  Marti  sie  fur  eine  Glosse  noch  innerhalb  des  spaten 
Anhangs  erklart.  Hier  klafft  eine  Liicke.  Solange  es  nicht 
gliickt,  sie  mit  Wahrscheinlichkeit  auszufiillen,  hat  man  das 
Recht,  die  Herkunft  der  Verse  von  Hosea  zu  bestreiten ; 
denn  bedingungslose  Heilsverheissung  ist  auch  bei  ihm 
nicht  zu  erwarten.  Aber  der  Schaden  will  nicht  durch  den 
Feldscher  beseitigt  sein,  der  kein  andres  Mittel  kennt  als 
das  Absagen  des  kranken  Gliedes,  sondern  durch  die  sach- 
kundige  und  geduldige  Hand  des  Chirurgen,  der  die  Erhalt- 
ung  und  den  gesunden  Gebrauch  des  unersetzlichen  Gliedes 
stets  im  Auge  behalt. 

Jeder  weiss,  dass  die  Voraussetzung  der  Textverderbnis 
nirgend  naher  zur  Hand  liegt  als  beim  Buche  Hosea;  dass 
xiv.  2-9  diese  seine  Lazarusgestalt,  die  schon  nach  dem 
Befunde  der  LXX  sicher  in  friihe  Zeit  zuriickgeht,  in  vollem 
Masse  teilt,  sollte  allein  geniigen,  mit  der  Zuweisung  an  eine 
spate  Hand  nicht  zu  eilig  zu  sein.  Hier  fehlt  vor  V.  5 sehr 
wenig,  urn  alles  Folgende  als  echte  Fortsetzung  von  V.  2-4 
verstandlich  zu  machen,  namlich  der  Wunsch  in  Jahwes 
Munde,  dass  Israel  den  erhaltenen  Rat  befolge,  ein  solches 
Bussgeliibde  ablege,  sich  aufrichtig  bekehre.  Sobald  dieser 


208 


DER  SCHLUSS  DES  BUCHES  HOSEA 


Wunsch  ausgesprochen  ist,  orclnet  er  sich  alles  Folgende 
unter,  und  alle  die  herrlichen  Verheissungen  werden  damit 
nur  zum  verloekenden  Bilde  dessen,  was  Israel  sich  durch 
Busse  und  Bekehrung  sichern  kann.  Ein  einziger  Satz 
wiirde  dafiir  gentigen,  und  ich  glaube  in  der  Tat,  dass  er, 
nur  wenig  entstellt,  aber  zum  Teil  von  seiner  Stelle  ver- 
drangt,  sic-h  erhalten  hat.  Dem  V.  5 geht  unmittelbar  vorauf 
das  Wort  E1JT,  ‘die  Waise,’  das  vaterlose  oder  elternlose 
Kind.  Israel  spricht  in  der  ersten  Person  plural.;  waruni 
fiir  das  ‘wir’  hier  auf  einmal  ‘die  Waise’  eintritt,  fiir  die 
schlichte  Rede  ein  im  hochsten  Grade  unpassendes  Bild,  ist 
sehlechterdings  nic-ht  einzusehen.  Selbst  Ps.  x.  14,  18, 
lxviii.  6 sind  schlechte  Belege  dafiir,  dass  Israel  sich  als 
Waise  bezeichnen  kann,  und  Evangelium  Johannis  xiv.  18 
darf  man  doch  gar  nicht  vergleichen.  Marti  hat  daher  ganz 
Recht,  wenn  er  in  dieser  Fassung  gegen  den  Satz  Einspruch 
erhebt.  Aber  die  einfache  Streichung  (so  auch  Sievers) 
hilft  hier  doch  ebensowenig ; denn  die  Begriindung  durch 
ein  abschliessendes  positives  Bekenntnis  zu  Jahwe  ist  nach 
den  drei  Negationen  von  4a  gar  nicht  zu  entbehren.  Auch 
die  Versetzung  von  4b  hinter  V.  3 (Harper)  mag  metrischen 
Postulaten  Geniige  tun,  dient  aber  im  tibrigen  nur  dazu, 
diese  grosse  saehliche  Schwierigkeit  erst  recht  fiihlbar  zu 
machen. 

Sobald  man  aus  EPIT,  das  dem  falschen  Subjekt  Eirf  ange- 
passt  ist,  das  allein  mogliche  EPP)3  herstellt,  gewinnt  man 
einen  guten  Sinn:  “sintemal  wir  in  Dir.  Erbarmen  er- 
fahren.”  ‘In  Dir  allein ’ ware  erwiinselit,  und  es  liegt  so 
nahe  wie  moglich,  nach  dem  dreifachen  Verzicht,  der  vor- 
ausgegangen,  das  dafiir  hinter  *1?  einzuschieben. 

Woher  aber  das  unbrauchbare  OUT  ? 

Wir  haben  gesehen,  dass  an  dieser  Stelle  ein  Wunschsatz 
sich  vermissen  lasst.  Die  beste  Einleitung  dafiir  ware  fe1”!  ^ : 
eben  diese  sehe  ich  in  dem  iiberschiissigen  Wort.  Von  den 
Konsonanten  £PH3  ist  ein  ^ und  ein  " iibergangen  und 
dann  fJV  zu  ausgedeutet  und  in  ElfP  verdeutlicht  worden. 
Der  Rest,  durch  dessen  Abhandenkommen  dieser  Notbe- 
helf  zustande  kam,  findet  sich  nicht  weit  davon  in  eben  dem 
Satze  5b,  den  wir  sehon  oben  als  mit  dem  Zusammenhang 
unvereinbar  erkannt  haben.  Er  ist  es  doppelt,  wenn  V.  5 ff . 


KARL  BUDDE 


209 


nicht  die  schlichte  Zusage  des  Heils  enthalten,  sondern  die 
Ausmalung  dessen,  was  eintreten  wiirde,  wenn  Israel  sich 
aufrichtig  bekehrte.  Gerade  dies  das  wir  hinter  "P 
nach  V.  2 erwarten  miissen,  steckt  in  dem  womit  5b 

beginnt,  und  ‘Ephraim’  = D'HBX  als  Subjekt  dazu  in  dem 
Rest  Durch  ein  Versehen  sind  diese  Worte  von 

der  Stelle  hinter  V.  4 in  die  nachste  Zeile  hinabgeglitten  und 
dann,  soweit  nicht  Verderbnis  schon  dazu  geholfen  hatte, 
dem  Fortschritt  der  Rede  nach  Kraften  angepasst  worden. 
Der  bis  dahin  ermittelte  Satz  2^  JH]  ‘O  dass  doch 

Ephraim  sich  bekehrte  ! ’ konnte  vollstandig  sein ; aber 
ebensogut  konnen  die  unverwendeten  Buchstaben  13D  noch 
die  Stelle  einer  kleinen  Erganzung  einnehmen,  etwa 
‘ zu  mir,’  oder  besser  noch  ‘aufrichtig.’  Jedenfalls 

schliesst  sich  nun  das  Folgende  vortrefflich  an : “ Wie  wollt’ 
ich  heilen  ihren  Abfall,  sie  aus  freien  Stiicken  lieben  !”,  u.s.w. 

Es  wird  sich  empfehlen,  von  hier  aus  zunachst  die  Rede 
Jahwes  bis  zu  Ende  zu  verfolgen  und  nach  Kraften  herzu- 
stellen.  Der  Name  Ephraim,  den  wir  vor  V.  5 wiedergewon- 
nen  haben,  findet  sich  auch  V.  9 — nebenbei  ein  weiterer 
Fingerzeig,  dass  xiv.  2-9  schwerlich  nachjeremianische 
Mache  ist — wahrscheinlich  ist  aber  iiberdies  in  V.  8,  vor  PHS', 
ein  verloren  gegangen.  Man  sieht  aus  diesem  Vor- 

schlag  schon,  dass  ich  mit  den  von  Sie  vers  so  fein  durch- 
geftihrten  Ftinfern  keineswegs  einverstanden  bin.  Sucht 
man  nach  bestimmten  Versmassen,  so  lassen  sich  Verse  von 
gleichschwebenden  Zeilen,  Doppeldreier  untermischt  mit 
Doppelvierern,  wie  Hosea  sie  auch  sonst  liebt,  leichter  gewin- 
nen.  Die  Verse  6-8  bilden  je  drei  Zeilen.2  Und  nun  weiter 
in  der  Herstellung  des  Textes.  In  V.  7 ist  Wellhausens 
nicht  anstatt  sondern  hinter  ^2^2  oder  am 

Platze,  weil  der  Weinstock  sich  durch  die  reiche  Aus- 
breitung  seiner  Schiisse  liber  der  Erde  (in  Palastina  wag- 
recht  gelegt)  auszeichnet,  wie  andre  Biiume  durch  die  ihrer 
Wurzeln.  Am  Ende  von  V.  7 ist  doch  wohl  <wie 

Weihrauch,’  zu  lesen.  Dass  das  Subjekt  sich  in  V.  8 in  den 

2 Wer  auf  einem  durchlaufenden  gleichen  Versmass  besteht,  mag  daher  daran 
denken,  diese  Verse  auszuscheiden,  zumal  sie  auch  sachlich  niehts  wesentlich  Neues 
herzutragen.  Aber  man  beachte  wohl,  dass  auch  V.  4 in  drei  Zeilen  gelesen  werden 
muss. 


210 


DER  SCHLUSS  DES  BUCHES  HOSEA 


Plural  umsetzt,  bleibt  in  dem  uberlieferten  Text  oline 
Erklarung;  liinter  wird  1??,  ‘seine  Sohne,’  tibersehen 
sein,  womit  zugleich  die  bildliche  Rede  in  die  eigentliche 
iibergeht.  Langst  ist  'blO  hergestellt ; dann  aber  ist 
I?"]  gut  und  nur  weiter  zu  lesen  ‘ und  werden 

Weinstocke  zum  Treiben  bringen,’  unter  Streicbung  des  3 
nach  LXX.  So  fallt  der  “Mischmasch  von  eigentlieher  und 
bildlicher  Rede  ” fort,  an  dem  Wellhausen  Anstoss  nimmt. 
Die  dritte  Zeile  muss  von  dem  Erzeugnis  ihres  Weinstocks 
reden  mannlieh  wie  x.  1).  Ob  der  Libanon  damals 
sehon  beruhmten  Wein  erzeugte,  wissen  wir  niclit ; viel- 
leieht  darf  man  nach  Hes.  xxvii.  18  kerstellen.  Neben 
‘und  sein  Ruf,’  mag  ‘und  sein  Rauschtrank,’ 

wie  Num.  xxviii.  7 vom  Weine,  in  Frage  kommen.  Auch 
“Oil  wjire  moglich.  Fur  V.  9 scheint  es  mir  geratener, 
nach  dem  einzigen  T"1^,  das  auch  von  LXX  bezeugt  wird, 
die  Anrede  iiberall  durchzufiihren,  als  dies  und  das  ^ im 
Anfang  in  die  dritte  Person  Singularis  umzusetzen.  Dann 
ergibt  sic-h  mit  V.  9 ein  tiefer  Einschnitt : in  zartlicher  An- 
rede schaut  Jahwe  das  Ersehnte  vollendet  und  zielit  den 
letzten  Schluss  daraus.  Vor  dem  graphisch  sehr  leichten, 
sachlich  reeht  fernliegenden  Vorschlag  von  Wellhausen,  in 
die  zweite  Person  umgesetzt  deine  'Anat  und 

deine  Ascheren,’  scheint  mir  der  von  Volz  IH1 
‘ich  erhore  dich  mit  Most  und  Getreide,’  nach  ii.  [7]  11, 
24  bei  weitem  den  Vorzug  zu  verdienen.  Vor  121S02  ist  *1? 
kaum  entbehrlich  und  der  Ausfall  leicht  zu  erklaren. 

Ein  Blick  auf  den  Anfang  mag  endlich  noch  lolinen.  Die 
Kiirze  von  2b  und  3a  macht  sofort  den  Eindruck  der  Klag- 
liedverse  (Fiinfer)  und  gibt  den  Anstoss  sie  auch  fernerhin 
zu  suchen,  wie  das  Sievers  durchgeftihrt  hat.  Aber  hinter 
HlIT  in  3a  bietet  LXX  noch  das  man  keine  Ursacke 

hat  abzulehnen,  und  vor  Tib  IT  2 jn  y.  o wiirde  ein  bw’O 
noch  gute  Wirkung  tun.  Die  “Worte”  in  V.  3 hat  man  oft 
unzulanglich  gefunden,  und  in  der  Tat  ist  ein  Zusatz  wTie 
COll^  ‘begiitigende  Worte,’  kaum  zu  entbehren.  In  dem 
ratselhaften  -^"npl,  fur  das  Graetz  die  liiibsche  Lesung 
fiXiani  vorgeschlagen  hat,  mochte  ich  eine  Randbemerkung 
sehen,  die  bestimmt  war,  das  iibersehene  E'OIO  nachzu- 
tragen.  Das  folgende  ist  gewiss  nach  V.  2 verschrieben, 


KARL  BUDDE 


211 


nur  ^3*1  ist  hier  am  Platze.  Fur  hat  LXX  noch  ^ 
gelesen;  die  Verderbnis  wird  dadurch  entstanden  sein,  dass 
man  das  ^ von  zu  einem  iiberfliissigen  ^7^  erganzte. 
Man  streiche  also  und  lese  NtPJI  Das  1 von 

wird  man  zuriickziehen  und  dann  ^312?  lesen  diirfen : ‘Ach, 
du  wirst  unser  Schuld  vergeben  !’  Das  ware  zur  Ein- 
fiihrung  demiitiger  Rede  gebraueht  wie  Gen.  xlii.  21 ; 2 Sam. 
xiv.  5 ; 2 Kon.  iv.  14.  Ueber  UTlStt?  CIS  brauclie  ich  deni 
bisher  Gebotenen  nichts  hinzuzufugen. 

Das  sind  gewiss  reichliche  Vorschlage  zu  Textanderungen  ; 
aber  wer  sieh  davor  scheut,  soli  die  Hand  nicht  an  das  Buch 
Hosea  legen.  Auch  der  weitestgehende  Verzicht  hilft  hier 
nichts;  denn  gerade  wer  alles,  was  ihm  verdorben  scheint, 
untibersetzt  lasst,  wird  am  haufigsten  iibersetzen,  was  er 
nicht  verantworten  kann.  Hier  hilft  nur  ein  Verfahren : 
sich  mit  aller  Hingabe  in  den  grossen  Gedankengang  eines 
Stiicks  hineindenken  und  dann  aus  dem  Vollen  des  so  gewon- 
nenen  Verstandnisses  tapfer  an  die  Herstellung  gehn.  Wer 
nicht  wagt,  gewinnt  nicht.  Mochte,  was  ich  geboten, 
wenigstens  auf  dem  richtigen  Wege  liegen  ! 

Marburg, 

Juni,  1910. 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


E.  Washburn  Hopkins 
Yale  University 

In  an  article  recently  published,1  I have  discussed  the 
magical  power  of  water  and  its  holiness,  which  leads  to  the 
belief  current  in  India  that  simple  immersion  in  any  water, 
provided  one  thinks  of  a sacred  river  or  pool,  frees  from  sin,2 
and  to  the  parallel  idea  that,  as  water  purifies  from  sin,  so 
it  purifies  from  all  that  pollutes,  stains,  darkens,  obscures; 
and  hence  pure  wisdom,  which  frees  from  all  obscurity,  is 
typified  by  water,  and  the  god  of  wisdom  and  water  are 
identified,  just  as  they  are  in  Babylon  (of.  the  Teutonic 
fountain  of  wisdom).  In  the  present  paper  I shall  take  up 
the  beliefs  in  regard  to  the  sacred  rivers  of  India  as  these  are 
handed  down  in  the  epic  poetry,  but  this  will  not  include 
a dissertation  on  the  Tlrthas  or  holy  watering  places,  which 
are  generally  to  be  found  at  certain  spots  in  rivers  otherwise 
holy.  The  cult  of  such  places  is  not  particularly  modern ; 
but  to  enumerate  even  the  names,  much  more  the  legends 
connected  with  these  names,  would  take  a small  volume.  It 
is  rather  the  cult  and  legends  of  the  rivers  themselves  which 
are  here  in  question.  For  the  same  reason,  the  philosophical 
and  religious  aspect  of  bathing  and  purification,  though 
intimately  connected  with  the  subject  of  rivers,  must  be 
passed  over  with  the  comprehensive  remark  that,  silly  as 
seem  some  of  the  epic  dicta  (such  as  for  example  that  a bath 
in  a certain  pool  purifies  just  so  many  ancestors  from  sin), 
the  poets  often  rise  to  heights  like  that  of  xiii.  108.  12,  where 

1 Proceedings  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society,  49.  37. 

2 Mahabharata,  xiii.  125.  49.  In  this  passage  the  holy  places  enumerated  in 
connection  with  the  bath  that  purifies  are  Kurukshetra,  Gaya,  Ganga  (Ganges), 
Prabhasa,  and  the  Pushkaras.  [References  below  are  to  the  Mahabharata  in  the 
Bombay  text  unless  otherwise  stated ; those  to  the  Ramayana  follow  the  South 
Indian  text.] 


213 


214 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


it  is  said,  in  calm  rejection  of  the  lower  level  marked  by  the 
folly  of  Tirthas,  that  “true  purification  is  the  purification 
through  knowledge,”  and  one  should  bathe  in  “the  Tirtha 
of  the  mind.”  For,  says  this  teacher,  “he  has  not  taken 
the  bath  (i.e.  of  purification)  who  is  merely  limb-bathed ; 
but  he  has  bathed  who  has  bathed  himself  in  self-restraint, 
who  has  made  himself  pure  within  and  without”  (ibid.  8 f). 

The  belief  that  all  rivers  are  holy  is  expressed  in  the  great 
epic  with  the  words  “all  rivers  are  Sarasvatls,”  xii.  264.  40, 
where  the  poet  wishes  to  inculcate  the  doctrine  that  for 
purposes  of  holiness  and  religion  one  river  or  one  mountain 
is  as  holy  as  another,  since  “the  soul  is  the  watering-place; 
one  should  not  travel  to  places”  (do  not  be  a degatithi). 
The  Sarasvatl  is  the  Jordan  of  India ; but  there  is  more  said 
about  it  than  can  be  localized,  since  this  name,  which  means 
only  ‘the  stream,’  was  applied  first  to  the  Indus,  then  to  an 
insignificant  but  holy  stream  which  debouched  into  and  was 
lost  in  the  desert,  and  finally  to  the  continuation  of  this  last 
stream  in  the  Ganges,  where  in  popular  fable  its  Arethusian 
course  really  terminated.3  In  much  the  same  way  the 
goddess  Ganges  was  brought  by  the  Saint  Vasislitha  to  Lake 
Manasa  and  there  “became  the  river  Sarju,”  xiii.  156.  24. 
In  this  same  book,  167.  17  f.,  the  Sarasvatl  is  distinct  from 
both  Ganges  and  Indus  and  is  grouped  with  the  sacred  streams 
of  the  Punjab  in  a list  of  rivers  which  covers  territory  from 
the  southern  Cauvery  (mentioned  twice  as  a sacred  river,  vss. 
20  and  22)  to  the  Oxus,  a stream  rarely  alluded  to  (the 
Vakshu  or  Vankshu).4 

The  list  of  rivers  in  this  passage  contains,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  the  Indus,  Oxus,  and  Lohita  (mahanada),  only  feminine 
names,  although  “rivers  male  and  female”  are  often  alluded 
to,5  and  one  would  think  that  they  were  regarded  as  of  either 
sex  indifferently.  Such  is  indeed  the  case  in  many  instances, 

3 Yet  in  ix.  35.  90,  the  Sarasvatl,  “lost  at  the  Tirtha  of  Udapana,”  unites  with 
the  ocean  at  Prabhasa  (where  the  moon  recovered  from  consumption  by  bathing, 
ibid.  77). 

4 The  Bombay  text  has  Cakshu  for  Vankshu  of  the  Calcutta  text,  B.  xiii.  166. 
22  = C.  7648;  cf.  ii.  51.  20,  Vankshu  = Vakshu  (Oxus).  The  reading  of  the  South 
Indian  text  agrees  with  that  of  Bombay  (S.  I.  271.  22). 

5 E.g.,  viii.  79.  74.  Cf.  the  epithet  of  ocean,  nada-nadi-pati,  ‘Lord  of  rivers  male 
and  female,’  in  Ramayana,  iii.  35.  7,  etc. 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


215 


for  example  in  Ramayana,  iii.  60.  11 ; yet  in  their  mytholog- 
ical aspects,  as  well  as  in  their  poetical  application,6  rivers 
are  distinctly  feminine.  ‘Lady  Ganges’  is  typical  of  all 
the  rest,  since  even  a masculine  name  does  not  serve  to  pre- 
serve the  ‘ruddy  Cona’  from  becoming  the  Cona.  The 
Tlrthas,  however,  remain  neuter  even  when  personified, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  “eldest  Pushkara,”  xiii.  125.  49,  etc. 
These  watering-places  gradually  become  holier  than  the 
rivers  to  which  they  owe  their  holiness;  for  example,  “the 
Tirtha  of  Saras vati  surpasses  in  holiness  the  Saras vatl,” 
just  as  the  Sarasvatl  surpasses  the  holy  land  of  Kurukshetra, 
xii.  152.  11  f.  But  of  course  not  all  rivers  are  holy  before 
their  Tlrthas.  At  whatever  spot  Rama  bathes,  the  river  is 
hallowed  (whether  the  whole  river  be  holy  or  not),  but  also 
“rivers  are  hallowed  if  Rama  bathes  in  them,”  Ramayana, 
ii.  48.  9.  The  Ganges  is  holy  anyway,  but  doubly  holy  at 
Cringaverapura,  because  Rama  crossed  over  it  there,  iii.  85. 
65,  and  Ramayana,  ii.  83  to  89.  The  Gumti  (Gomatl)  is 
famous  because  Rama  sacrificed  upon  its  banks,  iii.  291.  70. 
In  general,  any  confluence  is  sacred,  whether  it  be  of  two 
rivers,  or  of  a river  and  ocean.  Examples  are  the  Sarasvatl 
or  Indus  or  Ganges  uniting  with  the  ocean,  and  Sarasvatl 
uniting  with  the  Aruna  or  Ganges  with  the  Jumna.7 

The  epic  of  Rama  and  the  South  naturally  deals  more  with 
the  rivers  of  that  part  of  India,  and  the  Pampa,  Cauvery, 
and  other  southern  streams  are  described  and  revered  as 
fully  as  those  of  the  North.8  In  fact,  even  in  this  epic  the 

6 TamraparnI  (river)  sought  the  sea  “as  a woman  in  love  her  lover,”  Ramayana, 
iv.  41.  18.  Compare  ibid.  40.  20,  and  especially  the  description  {ibid.  30.  28,  re- 
peated v.  9.  51)  of  rivers  showing  sandbanks  in  autumn  “like  women  exposing  their 
hidden  beauties,”  navasangamasanknda  jaghananiva  yoshitah. 

7 The  varied  reading  at  xii.  152.  13  removes  the  absurdity  of  saying  that  the 
“Sarasvatl  and  Drishadvatl  unite  in  Manasa  lake”  (B.  sangamo  manasassaras ; 
South  Indian  text,  sevamdno  ’nusanjvaret.  The  passages  referred  to  above  on  the 
confluences  will  be  found  at  iii.  82.  60  and  68 ; 83.  152  f. ; and  85.  83.  The  last 
section,  vss.  22  and  33,  agrees  with  Ramayana  iv.  41.  15  in  ascribing  the  special 
holiness  of  the  Cauvery  to  the  nymphs  that  haunt  it,  as  saints  haunt  the  Godavari. 
In  later  legend  the  Cauvery  is  regarded  as  ‘half  the  Ganges’  and  is  personified  as 
the  daughter  of  Yuvanagva  and  wife  of  Jahnu,  Harivanga,  1421  f.  The  South  In- 
dian text  at  xii.  82.  48,  corasamyuta,  makes  the  Cauvery  a resort  of  thieves. 

8 Pampa  is  the  name  of  both  lake  and  river,  described  Ramayana,  iii.  73  ff.  and 
75  ; also  ibid.  iv.  1.  1.  The  Narmada  is  both  givd  and  durgd,  ibid.  41.  8 (described 
ibid.  vii.  31.  18  ff.),  that  is,  it  is  a violent  yet  gracious  river. 


216 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


northern  rivers  are  better  described,  partly  because  they  are 
better  known  and  partly  because  Rama’s  journey  takes  him 
over  the  famous  northern  streams,  while  he  ascends  to 
heaven  at  the  “holySaryu”  (Ramayana,  iv.  28.  18  f .;ibid. 
vii.  110.  7 f.).  The  Godavari  owes  its  sanctity  to  the  fact 
that  Rama  sojourned  there  (ibid.  iii.  13.  21,  etc.).  He  crossed 
without  getting  out  of  his  chariot  the  rivers  VedagrutI  and 
Gomatl  and  Syandika  (ibid.  ii.  49.  10  ff.).  In  her  distress 
Sita  invokes  Ganges  and  Jumna,  the  latter  being  called 
Angumatl  nadl,  which  I have  difficulty  in  believing  means, 
as  the  scholiast  says,  ‘ the  daughter  of  the  sun.’  9 The 
Yamuna  is  a Tlrtha  which  (Ramayana,  vi.  12.  28)  is  filled 
once  (yearly  ?)  by  the  Yamuna  (Jumna)  ; according  to 
(Mahabh.)  iii.  84.  44,  it  should  be  at  the  source  of  the  river 
Jumna. 

The  lists  of  these  holy  rivers  begin  as  early  as  the  Rigveda. 
The  epic  lists  vary.  In  vi.  9.  14  f.  the  rivers  in  India  proper 
(Bharata-land)  are  mentioned,  and,  ibid.  11.  31  f.,  those  in 
Caka-land.  Other  lists  are  given  at  iii.  188.  102  f.,  iii.  222. 
22  f.,  and  xiii.  166.  19  f.  There  are  more  than  one  hundred 
and  sixty  names  in  the  first  of  these  lists.  To  consecrate 
Rama,  water  was  brought  from  five  hundred  rivers  and 
the  four  seas  (Ramayana,  vi.  131.  53).  Compare  the  list 
ibid.  iv.  40.  But  the  old  term  ‘Five  Rivers’  (Punjab)  or 
‘Seven  Rivers’  (the  Persian  and  classical  designation)  still 
obtains.  Compare  in  vii.  101.  28,  “the  ocean-going  (streams) 
with  Indus  as  the  sixth,”  which  go  but  “return  not,”  ibid. 
vs.  3 and  vii.  45.  7.  The  epic  seven  (cf.  Vergil’s  yEneicl, 
ix.  30)  are  not  fixed.  In  one  passage,  cited  below,  p.  226,  the 
Ganges  is  mentioned  with  six  others,  and  in  another  the 
Ganges  with  six  entirely  different  streams,  so  that  Ganges 

9 Both  epics  call  the  Jumna  Kalindi  (from  the  mountain  Kalinda),  and  Sita 
offers  this  stream  “a  thousand  cows  and  an  hundred  jars  of  brandy,”  perhaps  in- 
tended for  the  priests,  as  explicitly  stated  when  Ganges  is  invoked,  Ramayana,  ii. 
55.  4,  6 and  19;  iv.  40.  19.  Bharadvaja’s  holy  hermitage  is  “at  the  union  of  Ganges 
and  Jumna.”  The  Jumna  represents  the  stream  of  youth,  “ which  passes  and  comes 
not  back,”  Ramayana,  ii.  105.  19,  yaty  eva  and  v.  20.  12,  yad  atltam  punar  naiti. 
From  the  heights  of  air  Sampati  views  rivers  as  “threads”  on  earth,  Ramayana,  iv. 
01.  8;  ibid.  40.  20  and  30,  the  Sone  is  “red,  swift  and  without  ford.”  It  is  men- 
tioned here  with  the  Kaugikl  (Kosi),  Sarasvatl,  Mahi,  etc.,  and  with  another  “Sone” 
which  is  unknown  but  may  be  the  first  carelessly  repeated.  The  Yamuna  here  re- 
ferred to  is  probably  the  mountain  Kalinda  (ibid.  vs.  19). 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


217 


alone  remains  common  to  both  lists,  while  it  is  certain  that 
the  Seven  of  antiquity  did  not  have  the  Ganges  at  all. 
None  of  these  lists  includes  what  Sir  George  Bird  wood  in  his 
letter  to  the  London  Times  (March  10,  1910)  calls  one  of 
‘ the  proverbial  ’ Seven  Rivers,  namely,  the  Kumarl.  Ganges 
herself  is  sevenfold  (see  below,  p.  226). 

A very  puzzling  thing  to  one  ignorant  of  the  historical 
development  of  the  epic  is  the  way  in  which  the  land  of  the 
holy  rivers  is  there  regarded.  Sometimes  it  is  a sort  of 
holy  land,  and  sometimes  it  is  looked  on  askance  as  the 
abode  of  sinful  people.  In  viii.  44.  6,  “the  Indus  as  the 
sixth”  refers  to  five  other  holy  rivers  remote  from  the  de- 
spised Vahikas,  who  have  been  “excluded  by  Himavat, 
Ganga,  Sarasvati,  Yamuna,  and  Kurukshetra,  and  are  re- 
moved from  the  five  rivers  having  the  Indus  as  the  sixth.” 
The  town  of  these  people  is  Cakala  (Sagala),  the  river  is 
Apaga,  and  the  Vahikas  themselves  are  Jarttika-nama 
(Jats),  ibid.  vs.  10  (=  South  Indian  37.  20,  where  the  text 
has  Candala-nama) . The  five  rivers  named  here  (ibid.  vss. 
31  f.)  are  the  (modern)  Sutlej,  Beas,  Ravi,  Chinab,  and 
Jhelum,  so  that  the  land  is  that  of  the  holy  rivers.  Yet  the 
region  is  not  holy  but  sinful,  the  land  of  Arattas  or  Vahikas.10 
Only  low  Brahmins  live  there.  A list  follows  of  those  “thus 
blamable,”  Prasthalas,  Madras,  Gandharas,  Arattas,  Kha- 
gas,  Vasatis,  Sindhusauviras.  It  is  clear  that  as  the  demons 
live  in  the  old  Punjab  river,  assumed  as  the  origin  of  the 
name  of  the  sinful  Vahikas,  the  place  cannot  be  other  than 
the  Punjab  itself,  though  the  taint  extends,  as  explained  in 
the  subtended  group,  westward  (to  Kandahar  and  perhaps 
to  Balkh).  In  iii.  82.  83  and  89,  Pancanada  is  the  name  of 
a special  Tirtha  as  well  as  of  the  Punjab  in  general,  and  the 
Beas  Tirtha  in  particular  is  noted  as  the  home  of  the  Naga 
Takshaka;  it  is  “in  Kashmir”  (ibid.  vs.  90)  an  elastic  term 
(cf.  the  origin  of  Takshagila,  Ramayana,  vii.  101,  where 
Taksha  is  son  of  Bharata). 

10  The  name  Aratta  refers  to  the  place,  Vahlka  to  the  people  (ibid.  vs.  45 ; but  B 
has  vahikam  ndma  tajjalam).  The  origin  of  the  name  Vahlka  is  said  to  be  from 
Vahi  and  Hika,  two  Pigacakas  (demons)  living  in  the  river  Beas.  The  South 
Indian  text,  37.  43  and  56,  reads  Bdhlikam  ndma  tadvanam  and  aratta  ndma  Bahlikd 
(eteshv  aryo  hi  no  vaset)  and  also  gives  the  names  of  the  Pigacakas  as  Bahllka  and 
Hika.  This  text  has  Eravati  (sic)  ! 


218 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


The  rivers  are  sweet  of  voice  and  as  a congregation  they 
unite  in  “praising  god  Indra”  in  the  most  orthodox  fashion, 
v.  17.  22,  etc.  But  when  the  great  god  Civa  comes,  they, 
like  the  birds,  are  overawed  and  cease  to  make  a sound,  iii. 
96.  6.  Unconsciously,  owing  to  their  purity,  they  free  from 
ill  as  well  as  from  sin  ; but  also,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Beas  and 
Samanga,  they  consciously  save  the  good  man  who  falls  into 
their  waters.11  The  rivers  Nanda  tand  Apara-Nanda  “re- 
move both  sin  and  fear,”  iii.  110.  1.  Apart  from  magical 
phenomena  connected  with  the  rivers,  the  physical  aspects 
spoken  of  are  chiefly  commonplace : the  swiftness  and 
whirls  of  the  current,  the  sandy  shores,  the  creatures  that 
live  in  the  stream,  the  hermitages  on  the  banks  — nothing 
particularly  mythological.  In  one  regard,  however,  the 
rivers  have  changed.  In  the  good  old  days  of  Suhotra  all 
rivers  “ran  gold,  free  to  all,”  but  nowadays  only  Ganges  has 
gold  in  its  bosom,  which  is  a by-product  of  the  seed  of 
Civa  cast  upon  its  waters  when  the  war  god  Skanda  (Alex- 
ander ?)  was  born.12 

Like  the  “bloody  (or  ruddy)  Sone,”  the  Sarasvatl  is  “red,” 
ix.  5.  51,  and  several  rivers  are  called  “golden.”  The  golden 
Hiranvat!  of  the  holy  land  seems  to  be  sacred,  but  its  holi- 
ness does  not  prevent  its  use  as  a moat,  owing  to  the  fact 
that  it  is  easy  to  get  to  and  has  no  mud  or  sharp  stones,  v. 
152.  7.  The  Slta  river  has  this  peculiarity,  that  boats  sink 
in  it,  xii.  82.  44.  Both  Ganges  and  Narmada  are  “divided 
in  two”  when  they  run  against  a hill,  vii.  30.  30 ; xii.  52.  32 
(the  Narmada  is  divided  by  the  Rikshavat  Mountains). 
If  these  are  physical  attributes,  the  statement  that  “Ganges 
is  not  much  disturbed  at  the  coming  of  rain”  (Ramayana, 
v.  16.  4)  implies  feeling.  When  anything  untoward  happens, 

11  iii.  139.  9;  xiii.  3.  13. 

12  Compare,  for  the  old  state  of  affairs,  vii.  56.  6 and  for  Civa’s  seed,  the  passages 
cited  below.  Obvious  statements  in  regard  to  the  rivers  are  that  they  increase  as 
they  debouch  into  the  ocean,  v.  110.  17,  etc.;  Ramayana,  ii.  62.  18;  and  that  a 
river  is  one  of  the  things  that  “increase  by  moving”  (answer  to  a riddle,  iii. 
133.  29  = 313.  62).  The  origin  of  rivers  is  doubtful,  like  that  of  saints  and  great 
families,  v.  35.  72.  They  have  no  owners,  xiii.  66.  36,  being  in  this  regard  like 
mountains  and  forests  and  Tlrthas.  A poor  river  is  easy  to  fill.  This  seems  to  be 
a proverb  : “Easy  to  fill  is  a poor  river  and  a mouse’s  hand,”  snpura  vai  kunadikd 
supuro  mushikanjalih,  v.  133.  9;  it  is  also  “easy  to  ford,”  vii.  119.  5.  The  Sone 
has  pearls  (Ramayana,  iv.  40.  20). 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


219 


rivers  are  apt  to  “run  backward,”  which  of  course  also  in- 
dicates mentality ; it  is  an  evil  omen  as  well,  vii.  75.  5 ; ix. 
58.  58  f.  When  the  great  knight  Karna  died,  “The  rivers 
ceased  to  flow,  the  sun  sank,  and  the  planet  Mercury  ran 
athwart  the  sky,  gleaming  like  the  sun,”  viii.  94.  49. 

The  personification  of  rivers  is  especially  prominent  in 
their  married  relations,  of  which  more  anon,  but  it  appears 
also  in  the  casual  conversations  held  with  rivers.  One  type 
of  these  conversations  is  where  they  talk  with  their  kind, 
that  is,  with  other  waters.  Thus  in  xii.  113.  2 f.,  Ocean,  who 
is  naturally  the  “Lord  of  Rivers,”  holds  a conversation  with 
Ganges.  He  is  curious  to  know  why  the  rivers  are  always 
bringing  down  huge  trees  yet  do  not  convey  the  slender  reeds 
which  line  the  banks  of  all  streams.  Ganges  explains  that 
the  trees  resist  and  are  overwhelmed,  whereas  the  reeds  bend 
and  so  escape  destruction.  Another  type  of  conversation  is 
based  on  the  womanly  character  of  rivers,  and  the  talk  is  here 
between  the  stream  and  the  goddess  wife  of  Civa,  in  re- 
gard to  the  conduct  of  good  women.  Uma,  the  goddess,  xiii. 
146.  17  f.,  asks  Ganges  and  other  rivers  how  exemplary 
women  ought  to  behave.  Incidentally  some  of  the  holiest 
rivers  are  named  at  this  place,  viz.  Sarasvatl,  the  “best  of 
rivers  and  first  of  all  streams  running  into  the  ocean,”  and 
then 

Vipaga  c a Vitasta  ca  Candrabhaga  Iravati 

Catadrur  Deviled  Sindhuh  Kaugiki,  Gdutami  tatha, 

(Beas,  Jhelum,  Chinab,  Ravi,  Sutlej,  Sarju,  Devika,  Indus, 
Cosy,  Gumti),  and  finally  Ganges,  “the  goddess  who  came 
from  heaven  to  earth,  and  is  the  best  of  all.”  13 

Those  named,  however,  are  not  the  only  holy  streams  of 
the  Punjab,  since  Caradanda  is  a holy  river  there,  beside 
which  grows  a tree  divine  that  is  called  satyopayacana,  that 
is,  ‘ assuring  the  wishes  ’ of  whoever  begs  of  it,  and  near  this, 
to  the  west,  is  the  Ikshumati,  called  “holy”  (Ramayana,  ii. 


13  This  is  an  etymological  laud : gaganad  gam  gata  devi  ganga  sarvasaridvara. 
The  conversation  ends  with  a lecture  by  Uma  herself,  vs.  33  f.  The  wife  should 
regard  her  husband  as  her  god  and  be  so  devoted  to  him  that  she  will  not  even  look 
at  another  man  or  male,  even  at  sun  or  moon  (as  males),  or  at  “a  tree  with  a mascu- 
line name”  (ibid.  43).  Above  read  Gomatl  (?),  or  GautamI  is  the  Godavari. 


220 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


G8.  16  f.),  while  the  Calmall  {ibid.  19)  is  in  the  vicinity  of 
the  Beas. 

Divinities  live  beside  the  rivers,  tiravasinas,  but  the 
streams  themselves  are  invoked  to  flow  with  wine  and  brandy 
and  water  sweet  as  sugar,  although  in  response  they  actually 
bring  milk  (Ramayana,  ii.  91.  15  and  40).  The  lakes,  how- 
ever, supply  the  needed  wine  at  the  request  of  the  saint 
{ibid.  69).  Both  trees  and  rivers  fear  at  the  approach  of  the 
fiend  Ravana,  and  as  the  trees  do  not  dare  to  move  a leaf, 
so  the  rivers  are  “silent  with  fright  ” {ibid.  iii.  46.  7 and  48.  9). 
When  the  trees  and  rivers  are  invoked  to  tell  where  Slta  is, 
they  will  not  answer,  not  because  they  cannot,  but,  as  is 
rather  quaintly  said,  they  “thought  about  it  but  would  not 
speak”  (Ramayana,  iii.  64.  9;  cf.  ibid.  49.  32).  Only  the 
animals,  by  facing  south,  show  mutely  the  direction,  in- 
dicating that  “they  wished  to  speak”  {ibid.  iii.  64.  15). 

Elsewhere  14  I have  alluded  to  the  case  of  a mountain  be- 
getting a daughter  by  a river ; but  the  poets  do  not  hesitate 
to  ascribe  similar  relations  to  rivers  and  human  beings,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  Cauvery  already  cited.  Satyavatl,  the 
sister  of  the  Vedic  saint  Vigvamitra  and  wife  of  the  seer 
Riclka,  became  the  river  Kaugiki  because  in  death  she 
followed  her  husband  to  heaven,  whence  she  descends  as  the 
river,  — a pretty  though  illogical  legend  of  the  Ramayana, 
i.  34.  8.  So  in  Puranic  legend  the  river  Bahuda  is  Gaurl,  the 
wife  of  Prasenajit,  now  turned  into  one  of  the  many  streams 
pilgrimage  to  any  one  of  which  exalts  a man  after  death  to 
the  high  heaven  of  Goloka.15  The  Bahuda  in  the  pseudo- 
epic is  the  name  of  a holy  Himalayan  stream  south  of 
Kubera’s  lake,  NalinI,  perhaps  the  Ganges  of  Kailasa  called 
MandakinI,  located  just  south  of  the  Golden  (haima) 
Mountain,  xiii.  19.  28  f.,  84.  Other  cases  of  river  wives  are 

14  Journal  of  the  American  Oriental  Society,  30.  11. 

16  As  the  list  at  xiii.  102.  45  f.  enumerates  the  holiest  watering-places,  it  may  be 
given  here:  Prabhasa,  Manasa,  Pushkarani,  Mahat-saras,  Naimisha  (Tlrtha), 
Bahuda,  Karatoyini  ( = °toya),  Gaya,  Gayagiras  (South  Indian  Hayagiras),  Vipaga, 
Sthulavaluka,  Krishna,  Ganga,  Pancanada,  Mahahrada,  Gomati,  KaugikI,  Pampa, 
Sarasvati  and  Drishadvati  (dual),  Yamuna.  The  South  Indian  reading  has  for 
Krishna,  Ganga,  and  Pancanada,  tushnim-gangdm  gandir-gangam,  which  I take  to  be 
localities.  South  Indian,  xiii.  159.  46.  The  Bombay  and  Southern  recensions  of  the 
Ramayana,  verse  4,  41,  13  (B)  omit  the  southern  Bahuda.  The  Punjab  is  its  real 
place,  later  transferred  to  north  and  south. 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


221 


known  to  the  epic  poets.  Thus  the  river  Narmada  became 
the  wife  of  king  Purukutsa,  xv.  20.  13.  In  xiii.  2.  18  and 
38  f.,  the  same  river  (modern  Nerbudder)  is  said  to  have 
fallen  in  love  ( cakame ) with  Duryodhana,  son  of  Durjaya, 
by  whom  she  had  a daughter,  Sudargana.16  This  girl’s  son 
married  Oghavatl,  daughter  of  Oghavat  (Nriga’s  grand- 
father), and  half  of  her  became  a river.  But  this  is  not 
altogether  a novelty;  the  Cauvery  is  “half  Ganges.”  The 
girl  Amba,  whose  conduct,  in  marked  contrast  to  that  of 
Oghavatl,  was  crooked,  continued  in  life  half  as  a human 
being  and  half  as  a crooked  river.17 

The  great  sage  of  the  epic  bears  the  name  ‘River-born’ 
because  he  is  the  son  of  Ganges ; and  Crutayudha  is  the  son 
of  the  god  Varuna  (vii.  92.  44  f.)  by  the  river  Parna^a.18 

Some  rivers  have  themselves  a mythological  origin  in  that 
they  come  from  the  juice  of  celestial  trees  (see  the  references 
in  the  paper  cited  above  in  the  Journal  of  the  American 
Oriental  Society) ; but  of  earthly  rivers  the  Chumbal  (un- 
known to  Valmiki  ?)  has  the  most  curious  origin  in  that  it 
arose  from  the  flood  of  secretions  and  blood  flowing  from  the 
multitudinous  cattle  slaughtered  by  the  good  king  Rantideva, 
a legend  referred  to  on  several  occasions.19 

Before  speaking  more  particularly  of  the  Ganges,  which 
ever  remains  the  first  of  rivers,  a word  may  be  said  in  regard 


16  At  a Tlrtha  on  Narmada  Yayati  fell  from  heaven,  and  gods  and  saints  hasten 
there,  iii.  89.  1 f. 

17  Nadi  vatseshu  hanyd  ca,  v.  186.  41.  Kaugambi  is  the  chief  town  of  the  Vatsas, 
and  Amba  is  connected  with  ambu,  ‘water’  (cf.  Kugamba). 

18  Bhlshma,  son  of  Ganges,  is  called  apagasuta,  apageya,  nadija,  i.  63.  91 ; 95.  47; 
iv.  39.  10;  61.  34 ; v.  148.  32,  etc.  Sarasvatl  also  bore  a son,  Sarasvata,  to  Dadhlca 
and  was  blessed  so  that  she  “pleased  the  gods  and  manes  with  her  waters  and  be- 
came holiest  of  holy  rivers,”  ix.  51.  17  f. ; 54.  38  f.  The  great-grandmother  of  the 
famous  Dushyanta  was  the  Sarasvatl,  who  at  the  end  of  a twelve-years’  sacrifice 
“ chose  Matinara  as  her  husband  and  became  the  mother  of  Tansu  ” (Tunsu),  i.  95. 
27.  The  river  who  bore  a daughter  to  a mountain  (above)  was  called  Cuktimatl 
i.  63.  35  f.,  the  name  of  both  river  and  town  of  the  Cedi.  Her  daughter  married 
Vasu. 

19  Compare  vii.  67.  5 ; xii.  29.  123 ; xiii.  66.  42,  etc.  The  name  Carmanvati 
evidently  suggested  that  it  had  a leathery,  carman,  origin.  Such  etymologies  give 
rise  to  various  myths.  The  river  Samanga  referred  to  above  is  interpreted  to  mean 
‘with  limbs  complete’  and  thus  makes  whole  the  “eightfold  cripple”  Ashtavakra 
who  enters  it,  so  that  he  reappears  “with  limbs  complete,”  iii.  134.  39.  This  stream 
used  to  be  called  Madhuvila,  and  Indra  on  bathing  in  it  was  released  from  the  sin 
of  slaying  Vritra,  ibid.  135.  2. 


222 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


to  the  half-mythological  and  allegorical  rivers.  Some  of 
these  are  frankly  of  the  latter  sort  and  deserve  remark  only 
as  illustrative  of  rhetoric,  not  as  rivers.20 

But  there  is  also  an  allegorical  river  which  so  runs  into 
and  is  wantonly  confused  with  the  mythological  river  of 
death  and  of  the  underworld  that  it  is  difficult  to  disentangle 
myth  and  allegory.  Without  any  allegory  the  river  of  hell 
is  a filthy,  blood-filled  stream  which  is  “one  hard  river  to 
cross,”  and  hence  is  called  VaitaranI.21  Now  in  the  descrip- 
tions of  battles  nothing  is  commoner  than  for  the  poet  to 
describe  the  river  of  blood  shed  by  the  valiant  hero,  and  this 
river  then  inspires  a complete  picture  of  the  stream,  the 
various  parts  and  implements  of  the  army  serving  as  meta- 
phorical parts  and  adjuncts  of  the  river,  the  birds  upon  it, 
the  fishes  within  it,  the  trees  beside  it,  etc.  Such  rivers  are 
not  merely  allegorical.  They  “lead  to  Yama’s  home,”  as  is 
said  in  viii.  52.  33,  and  so  coincide  with  the  real,  mythological 
“ river  of  death.”  Thus  a hero  says  that  he  will  make  a 
river  flowing  to  the  other  world,  carrying  thither  corpses,  as 
in  iv.  61.  20,  “I  will  make  a river  to  course  to  the  other 
world,”  of  which  the  water  is  blood,  the  crocodiles  are  the 
elephants  slain  in  battle,  etc.  A similar  river  in  iv.  62.  17  is 
“like  the  time  at  the  end  of  the  ages,”  that  is,  full  of  terror. 
In  viii.  77.  44,  the  battle-river  “leads  to  the  home  of  the 
dead,”  but  is  “like  VaitaranI,  which  is  terrible  and  hard  to 
cross  for  those  of  imperfect  soul ; so  terrible  and  hard  to 
cross  is  it  for  cowards.”  22  The  metaphorical  use  of  rivers 


20  Such,  for  example,  is  “the  river  of  illusion  guarded  by  the  gods”  (i.e.  life),  v.  46. 
7 ; or  the  “soul-river”  in  which  one  should  bathe,  since  its  water  is  truth,  its  Tirtha 
is  piety,  its  banks  are  steadfastness,  and  its  waves  are  pity,  v.  40.  20.  This  is  only 
another  aspect  of  the  “river  of  life,”  which  is  elsewhere  described  as  having  desire 
and  wrath  as  its  crocodiles,  the  five  senses  for  its  water,  and  “firmness  is  the  boat 
with  which  one  may  cross  its  awful  stream,”  ibid.  vs.  22.  Compare  the  “Tirtha 
of  the  mind"  in  xiii.  108.  1 f.,  “that  pure  pool  of  truth,”  which  is  the  Manasa  Lake 
of  the  intelligent. 

21  The  hell-river  of  Yama,  god  of  death,  is  called  Pushpodaka  in  iii.  200.  58,  which 
may  be  said  to  be  its  only  exclusive  name,  since  its  ordinary  appellation,  VaitaranI, 
is  shared,  oddly  enough,  by  one  of  the  many  sacred  streams  (in  Kalinga).  But 
this  section,  iii.  200,  appears  to  be  an  interpolation.  Section  201  begins  where  199 
leaves  off,  with  “having  heard  the  story  of  Indradyumna,”  i.e.,  section  199;  (this 
verse,  however,  is  bracketed  in  South  Indian). 

22  Rarer  than  this  river  allegory  is  the  parallel  forest  allegory  of  battle.  In  ix. 
24.  52  it  is  confused  with  the  flood  metaphor : “ He  entered  the  flood  of  the  foes’ 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


223 


is  similar  in  the  Ramayana,  e.g.,  C vi.  58.  29  (not  in  text  B), 
Yamasagaragaminl,  “a  battle-river  going  to  the  Hades-ocean.” 

THE  GANGES 

As  a goddess,  Ganges  is  subservient  to  the  Great  Father, 
whom  she  adores,  i.  96.  4 ; and  in  the  passage  cited  above  from 
xiii.  146,  in  which  her  name  is  derived  from  her  “going  to 
earth,”  23  she  is  represented  as  humble  before  Uma,  her 
younger  sister  and  co-wife  of  Civa. 

In  human  form  Ganges  becomes  the  wife  of  Cantanu,  i. 
98.  5,  and  the  mother  of  Gangeya  (the  ‘river-born’)  Bhl- 
shma,  i.  95.  47.  She  is  called  the  “daughter  of  Jahnu,”  i.  98. 
18  (Jahnusuta,  also  Jahnavl)  and  the  “daughter  of  Bhagl- 
ratha”  (also  Bhagirathl) ; but  only  by  courtesy  (adoption), 
as  she  is  really  the  daughter  of  Himavat  (Haimavati),  vi. 
119.  97.  Among  the  gods  she  has  acquired  the  title  of  Ala- 
kananda  (- ata ),  and  on  reaching  the  world  of  the  dead  she  is 
identified  with  the  Vaitarani,  i.  170.  22,  also  called  there 
Pushpodaka;  see  above,  note  21. 

In  the  geographical  section  of  the  sixth  book  of  the  epic, 
vi.  6.  28  f.,  the  threefold  (three-pathed)  Ganges,  called 
Sarasvatl,  is  said  to  issue  from  the  world  of  Brahman  and  to 
fall  like  milk  from  the  top  of  Mount  Meru  into  the  lake  of  the 
moon  (created  first  by  her  descent),  after  she  had  been 
upheld  for  100,000  years  on  Civa’s  head.  Here  she  is  said 
to  divide  into  seven  streams,  called  Vasvaukasara,  NalinI, 
Pa  van!,  Jambunadi,  Sita,  Ganga,  and  “seventh  the  Indus” 
(Sindhu).  She  is  both  visible  and  invisible,  vi.  6.  50.  The 
NalinI  is  especially  Kubera’s  stream,  though  conceived,  as 
in  Ramayana  vi.  13.  12,  as  Brahman’s  also  (cf.  vii.  80.  27). 
The  Ramayana,  i.  43.  12,  has  the  Hladini  and  Sucakshu  for 
the  first  and  fourth  in  this  list. 

Bhaglratha  was  first  enabled  to  draw  her  from  Bindusaras, 
where  “she,  the  divine  one,  was  first  established”  (revealed 

forces,  a forest  of  bows,  where  darts  were  the  thorns,  clubs  were  the  stones,  and  cars 
and  elephants  were  the  great  trees”  (following  the  reading  of  the  South  Indian  text). 

23  The  name  Ganga  is  really  a derivative  from  ga,  ‘to  go.’  From  similar  roots 
meaning  go,  move,  flow,  etc.,  come  the  names  of  many  rivers  in  India  and  else- 
where, Sarasvatl,  Sarju,  Indus,  Rhine,  Arethusa,  etc.  Each  to  its  own  people  is 
‘the  run’  (river). 


224 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


on  earth,  vi.  6.  44  f.  So  in  Ramayana  i.  43.  10,  the  Ganges 
falls  into  Bindusaras).  Bhaglratha  visited  Ilimavat  and 
asked  Ganges  to  baptize  the  bones  of  Sagara’s  sons,  saying, 
“There  is  no  abode  for  them  in  heaven  till  thou  baptizest 
their  bodies  (bones)  with  thy  waters,”  iii.  108.  18.  The 
Ramayana  has  a famous  description  of  the  descent  of  the 
river  at  i.  43.  Ganges  is  called  the  daughter  of  Bhaglratha 
because  when  weary  she  sank  upon  his  lap ; and  since  she 
had  blessed  the  bones  of  the  Sagaras  she  assumed  by  adoption 
the  place  of  his  son  (“she  chose  him  for  her  father”),  vii.  00. 
0 and  8. 24  Compare  the  account  in  iii.  109.  18  f.,  where  she 
“descended  to  earth  to  fill  the  sea.”  Here  the  South  Indian 
recension  inserts  a passage  (cf.  Ramayana,  i.  43.  5 f.)  telling 
of  Ganges’  anger  at  being  forced  to  fall  from  the  sky.  It  is 
a very  undignified  addition  in  maiorem  gloriam  of  Civa. 
Ganges  says  if  she  has  to  go  to  hell  to  baptize  the  Sagaras 
she  will  take  Civa  with  her.  But  she  gets  caught  in  Civa’s 
hair  for  her  folly  and  there  wanders  about  for  a long  time 
“like  a grain  of  ripe  corn  in  a field  of  grass.”  25 

It  is  in  falling  that  Ganges  becomes  divided  sevenfold.  As 
the  river  of  sky,  earth,  and  the  lower  regions  she  is  three- 
fold, “going  through  three  worlds,”  “having  three  paths.”  26 

The  mystic  TrivenI,  ‘three-stranded’  Ganges,  is  Ganges 
bound  together  with  the  Yamuna  and  the  Saras vatl,  which 
comes  underground  to  the  union,  at  Prayaga  (Allahabad), 
but  this  title  is  not  epic,  though  venikrtajald,  ‘having  water 
in  strands,’  is  an  epithet  of  ‘three-path’  Ganges,  Rama- 
yana, ii.  50.  16  (where  she  is  described  as  “wife  of  Ocean”). 

24  For  iirvagi  South  Indian  has  urdhvaga,  but  this  is  not  so  good  a reading.  Com- 
pare xii.  29.  68,  where  Nllakantha  vouches  for  the  word  urvatfl  as  implying  the 
lap  (urn) ; also  the  similar  derivation  of  urvi  as  title  of  earth,  from  the  fact  that 
Kagyapa  took  her  (earth)  on  his  lap,  xii.  49.  73.  To  take  upon  the  lap  is  to  imply 
parentage. 

25  The  addition  in  the  South  Indian  text  also  retells  the  story  how  the  Sagaras 
attacked  Kapila  and  were  burned  by  his  glance,  and  describes  Dillpa’s  succession 
to  the  throne  and  his  character  (cf.  Vishnu  Purana,  iv.  4.  1 f.).  The  story  is  often 
told,  i.  106  f. ; iii.  142.  9 (Ganges  falls  on  the  head  of  Civa,  Vrishanka) ; v.  111.  8,  etc. 
When  falling,  Ganges  is  described  as  “girdling  the  sky,”  gaganamehhald,  iii.  109.  9 
(the  Milky  Way).  Compare  Ramayana,  iii.  52.  35. 

26  Trilokaga,  i.  96.  19;  trivartmagd,  xiii.  26.  84;  tripathaga,  ii.  52.  11;  Rama- 
yana, i.  44.  6 ; vi.  126.  47 ; tripathagamini,  i.  98.  8.  A Tirtha  called  Sapta-Ganga 
is  mentioned  along  with  a Tri-Ganga,  iii.  84.  29 ; xiii.  25.  6 and  16  (cf.  the  Saptasa- 
rasvata  Tirtha). 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


225 


It  is  rather  curious  that  the  sanctity  of  Prayaga  is  not  fully 
established.  Bhishma  has  doubts  in  regard  to  the  value  of 
Tirthas  anyway,  as  is  mentioned  several  times,  for  example 
in  xiii.  25.  5,  but  it  is  especially  said  that  “it  is  not  in  accord- 
ance with  the  word  of  the  Veda”  to  visit  Prayaga  with  the 
idea  of  dying  there  as  at  a sacred  spot,  iii.  82.  6 ; 85.  82 
and  83.  This  heresy,  however,  is  introduced  merely  to  be 
overthrown.  The  holiness  of  Prayaga,  in  fact,  leads  to  gro- 
tesque exaggeration  in  deifying  the  river,  which  is  wor- 
shipped by  gods  and  seers.  The  glory  of  Ganges  at  this 
point  exceeds  even  that  of  the  Yamuna  (i.e.  Jumna,  the 
goddess  sister  of  Yama).  Part  of  this  piety  is  repeated 
ipsissimis  verbis  in  another  glorification  of  the  river  in 
the  thirteenth  book  (below).  Prayaga  is  the  base  or  lap 
( jaghana , upastha ) of  the  earth,  and  a bath  there  imparts 
virtue  equal  to  that  given  by  the  four  Vedas.  Ganges  is 
here  the  one  Tlrtha  of  this  (Kali)  age,  iii.  85.  75  and  90.  A 
meeting  of  two  armies  is  compared  to  the  furious  confluence 
of  Ganges  and  Jumna  or  of  Ganges  and  Sarayti,  at  the  full 
water  of  the  early  rains,  vii.  17.  49  and  95.  8,  compare 
Ramayana,  v.  43.  15.  At  Prayaga  the  Ganges  is  called 
Civodaka  (Ramayana,  ii.  83.  22),  probably  not  ‘Civa’s 
water’  but  ‘beneficent.’  Jars  of  “the  water  of  Ganges  at  its 
union  with  Jumna”  are  used  at  the  coronation  described  in 
Ramayana  ii.  14.  34  ; 15.  5.  The  two  are  invoked  together 
by  Slta,  the  Ganges  as  “wife  of  Ocean,”  Udadhiraja,  to- 
gether with  all  the  “divinities  of  the  fords,”  Ramayana, 
ii.  52,  82  f.  Ganges  is  especially  the  “home  of  seers  and 
ascetics,”  ibid.  vii.  42.  33,  and  “destroyer  of  sin,”  ibid.  46.  23. 

The  modern  ghats  (landing  places)  of  Benares  may  be 
referred  to  in  iii.  145.  50  f.,  where  it  is  said  that  the  seven- 
fold (- vidha ) Ganges  (ibid.  139.  2)  after  flowing  by  ( anu ) 
the  great  jujube  tree  in  Kailasa,  has  easy  fords,  cool  water, 
and  lotuses;  “and  gems,  corals,  and  trees  adorn  its  stairs” 
(prastara) . The  commentator  says  that  prastara  is  ‘ghats,’ 
and  as  corals  do  not  grow  in  the  river  he  is  probably  right. 
According  to  i.  228.  32  the  huge  fishes  called  jhashas  swim 
in  the  Ganges.27 

27  It  will  be  observed  that  nowhere  in  the  epic  is  there  found  support  for  the 
slander  that  live  children  are  thrown  to  the  crocodiles  of  the  Ganges.  That  bath- 


226 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


Generally  the  sevenfold  character  of  Ganges  is  explained  as 
consisting  in  the  seven  forms  of  distinct  rivers.  At  vi.  119. 
76  and  vii.  36.  13  it  is  indeed  said  that  Ganges  enters  the 
ocean  sevenfold  and  makes  a vortex  there,  but  this  may  be 
only  the  equivalent  of  the  statement  in  i.  170.  19  f.,  that 
Ganges  comes  from  Himavat  and  enters  the  ocean  by  seven 
streams,  “and  one  is  purified  from  sin  who  drinks  the 
waters  of  Ganges,  Yamuna,  Sarasvati  (Plakshajata),  Ra- 
thastha,  Sarayu,  Gomatl,  or  Gandakl.”  This  list  differs,  as 
already  observed  from  the  seven  streams  of  vi.  6.  50,  there 
called  “the  seven  Gangas  famous  in  the  three  worlds.”  Yet 
there  is  still  a later  division  known  to  the  Ramayana,  i.  43. 
12  f. ; the  three  rivers  HladinI,  Pavanl,  NalinI,  are  the  three 
Ganges  of  the  east ; Sueakshu,  Sita,  and  Sindhu  are  the  three 
western  Ganges,  and  the  seventh  is  she  who  became  Bha- 
giratha’s  daughter.28 

The  most  sacred  spots  of  the  Ganges  are,  and  always  have 
been  Gangotri,  the  place  of  origin  in  the  mountains;  the 
Gate;29  the  junction  of  Ganges  and  Yamuna;  and  the  place 

ing  in  the  stream  purifies  from  sin  is  everywhere  admitted,  e.g.,  iii.  85.  66  and  69; 
no  Tirtha  is  equal  to  Ganges,  ibid.  96.  The  “golden  sands”  of  Ganges  (suvarnasi- 
kata)  are  seen  near  the  jujube  (Tirtha),  where  the  water,  “which  used  to  be  cold, 
is  now  warm,”  iii.  90.  26.  Compare,  for  the  ghats,  the  tlraruha  trees  in  the  descrip- 
tion at  Ramayana  ii.  50.  19.  Here  too  Ganges  (ibid.  24)  is  divya  papanagini,  ‘divine 
destroyer  of  sin.’  Mr.  Birdwood’s  remark,  in  the  letter  referred  to  above  (p.  217), 
“Sanscritists  say  . . . that  there  are  intimations  of  it  [the  superior  sanctity  of  the 
Ganges]  in  the  epics,  the  Mahabharata  and  Ramayana,”  is  putting  the  case  too 
mildly.  The  mother  of  Ganges,  according  to  the  Ramayana  i.  35.  16,  is  Manorama 
by  name  (var . lec.  Mena),  ‘daughter  of  Mount  Meru,’  who  was  the  wife  of  Hima- 
vat (Himalaya)  and  bore  him  tw'o  daughters,  Ganga  and  her  (younger)  sister  Uma 
(wife  of  Civa).  Mena  or  Menaka  is  the  mother  of  Ganges  according  to  Puranic 
legend,  and  Manorama  is  probably  the  same  person,  though  usually  these  names 
are  applied  to  different  nymphs  (Apsarasas).  Compare  also  ix.  37.  37-55  and  38. 
3 f.  on  Sarasvati,  Manorama,  etc.,  and  the  Sapta  Savasvata. 

28  The  Sueakshu  is  probably  the  Oxus  (above).  These  are  different  streams, 
srotansi,  which  “ went  to  the  eastern  (and  western)  district,”  while  Ganges,  the 
seventh,  “ followed  Bhaglratha.”  At  this  place  the  anger  of  Jahnu  at  being 
disturbed  by  Ganges’  flood  is  described.  The  great  saint  swallowed  the  river 
but  then  let  her  out  through  his  ears  on  condition  that  she  should  be  recognized 
as  his  issue.  Therefore,  because  she  came  from  him,  she  was  called  the  “daughter 
of  Jahnu.”  The  HladinI  is  west  of  the  Sutlej  (Ramayana,  ii.  71.  2). 

29  The  place  known  as  Ganga-dvara,  ‘Ganges-gate’  (now  known  as  Haridvara, 
Hardwar)  is  still  a place  of  pilgrimage,  as  are  the  other  sacred  spots  in  the  course 
of  the  river.  The  epic  speaks  in  one  place  of  the  gate  Ganga-Mahadvara,  and 
says  that  the  spot  is  guarded  by  Dhamas,  that  is,  “Mahatmas  of  unknown  ap- 
pearance who  speak  the  truth.”  It  is  peculiar,  however,  that  this  place  is  regarded 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


227 


where  the  river  debouches  into  the  gulf  of  Bengal.  In  xiii. 
26  there  is  a whole  chapter  devoted  to  Ganges,  who  is 
said  (vs.  88)  to  bear  gold  in  her  bosom  ; to  have  three  paths 
by  which  the  three  worlds  are  embellished  (vss.  72  and  84, 
cf.  the  tristhana  of  Civa,  where  the  river  turns  north,  xiii. 
25.  15) ; and,  by  descending  upon  the  head  of  Civa,  to 
have  saved  the  sons  of  Sagara  (vss.  72  and  80).  Ganges 
cures  all  bodily  infirmities  (vs.  82)  and  all  sins;  even  the 
sight  of  her  waters  removes  sin  and  saves  one’s  ancestors 
to  the  seventh  generation  (vs.  61  f.).  On  beholding  her  one 
is  freed  from  sin,  as  snakes  lose  their  poison  at  sight  of  Tark- 
shya  (Garuda).  She  is  to  men  what  ambrosia  is  to  the  gods, 
svadha  to  the  Manes,  and  sudha  to  the  Nagas  (vss.  44  and  49). 
She  is  to  other  rivers  what  the  sun  is  to  the  gods,  the  moon 
to  the  Manes,  the  god-lord  ( devega , king)  to  men  (vs.  74). 
She  is  identical  with  Prigni  (Nllakantha  says  this  is  “mother 
of  Vishnu”),  and  with  Brihatl  (Vac).  She  is  daughter  of 
the  Earth-upholder  (Avamdhra,  Himavat),  wife  of  Civa, 
and  mother  of  Guha  (Skanda).  She  is  called  Vishnupadi 
(this  may  imply  the  otherwise  late  legend,  Ramayana,  ii.  50. 
26 ; Vishnu  Purana,  iv.  4.  15,  that  she  came  from  Vishnu’s 
toe),  and  she  was  brought  to  earth  by  Bhaglratha  (vss.  86- 
89,  93  and  96).  They  never  lose  heaven  whose  bones  have 
been  laid  within  her  waters ; and  one  may  live  as  a sinner 
and  yet  die  blessed  if  one  ends  his  life  beside  her  sacred 
stream,  for  “as  long  as  one’s  bones  lie  in  Ganges,  so  long 
is  one  magnified  in  heaven”  (vs.  28  f.).30 


as  so  far  north  that  “farther  (north)  than  Ganga-Mahadvara  no  (mere)  man  has 
ever  gone,”  v.  111.  17  and  19.  Possibly  Hardwar  is  not  meant,  but  the  exit  of 
Ganges  from  the  caverns  of  the  mountain  at  Gangotri,  where  the  river  has  its 
udbheda,  ‘ breaking  out,’  among  ‘ Civa’s  locks,’  that  is,  amid  the  icicles  at  the 
mouth  of  the  cave.  Ganga-dvara  (without  the  maha,  ‘great’)  is,  in  xiii.  166.  26, 
one  of  the  holy  places  of  pilgrimage. 

50  In  iii.  99.  32,  Ganges  comes  from  the  locks  of  Civa  (Cambhu),  whose  wife  she 
is  (above)  ; but  as  in  iii.  187.  19  and  Ramayana,  ii.  50.  25,  samudramahishi,  she  is 
also  called  “the  dear  wife  of  Ocean,”  who  receives  her.  Like  a mother  “she  floods 
the  Deccan  district,  running  down  the  slopes  of  the  hills  like  the  wife  of  the  king 
of  snakes.”  In  iii.  139.  16,  after  a general  invocation  to  gods  and  other  rivers, 
Ganges  is  thus  addressed  : “O  goddess  Ganges,  from  the  golden  mountain  of  Indra 
(Mandara)  I hear  thy  sound.  O Subhaga  (blessed  one),  do  thou  who  art  daugh- 
ter of  the  mountains  ( gdilasutd ),  guard  this  king  from  the  (perils  of  the)  mountains 
and  give  him,  as  he  enters  them,  thy  protection.”  “The  Icapila  cow  is  the  best 
of  cows,  even  as  Ganges  is  the  very  best  of  rivers,”  xiii.  73.  42;  77.  8. 


228 


THE  SACRED  RIVERS  OF  INDIA 


The  names  or  titles  of  Ganges  are  not  confined  to  the  seven 
synonyms  given  above,  nor  to  the  common  patronymics, 
Bhagirathl,  Jahnavl,  and  Haimavatl.  As  a heavenly  stream 
she  is  called  Mandakini  (a  name  shared  by  earthly  rivers, 
ef.  Ramayana,  ii.  95  and  103),  Mahabharata,  v.  111.  12,  etc. 
Cuka  sees  the  “lovely  Mandakini”  as  he  sails  through  space, 
and  sees  also  the  naked  nymphs  that  sport  in  the  stream, 
xii.  334.16.  In  xiii.  80.  5 this  heavenly  river  is  called  Man- 
dakini vasor  clhara,  ‘stream  of  wealth,’  and  is  the  haunt  of 
nymphs  and  angels.  The  Ganges  also  gives  her  name  to 
Skanda,  who  like  Bhishma  was  at  first  called  Gangeya  (cf. 
Kumarasu),  and  one  of  his  four  forms,  called  Naigameya, 
revered  her  especially,  ix.  44.  16  and  38.  It  is  as  the 
heavenly  Ganges  that  she  is  revered  under  the  name  of 
Akaga-Ganga,  iii.  142.  11,  ‘Ganges  of  the  air,’  and  the 
South  Indian  recension  (i.  186.  2)  gives  her  the  further  title, 
“the  river  of  the  world,”  Lokanadl.  She  is  called  also  ‘the 
river  of  the  gods,’  DevanadI  mahaganga,  iii.  156.  98  (on 
Gandhamadana),  and  Suranadl,  which  has  the  same  mean- 
ing : “As  the  sweet  water  of  Suranadl  becomes  salt  on  reach- 
ing the  ocean,  ”vi.  83.  5,  and  Ramayana,  i.  35.  25.  As  the 
underground  river  she  is  also  called  Vaitaranl. 

Ganges  is  often  represented  as  appearing  to  men  and  re- 
proving, advising,  or  helping  them.  Thus  in  v.  178.  68  f., 
“she  who  is  courted  by  saints  and  angels”  advises  her  son 
Bhishma  not  to  fight  with  Rama  and  asks  each  in  turn  to 
desist  from  battle;  while  in  the  following  story  she  “stands 
in  water”  ( jale  sthita)  and  reproves  Amba  for  her  crooked 
ways,  v.  186.  30.  Neither  the  holiness  of  the  goddess  nor 
filial  piety,  however,  prevents  the  fight  in  the  prior  tale,  and 
then  Ganges  appears  like  a Greek  goddess  on  her  son’s  chariot, 
aiding  him  in  the  fight,  though  still  described  as  “best  of 
rivers.”  Along  with  her  were  eight  attendant  saints  blazing 
like  the  sun  or  fire,  who  helped  her  support  Bhishma,  so  that 
he  did  not  touch  the  earth.  Then,  when  his  charioteer  fell, 
his  goddess  mother  controlled  the  steeds  with  her  own  hand 
and  guarded  him,  until  in  warrior  shame  he  begged  her  not 
to  intervene,  v.  182.  12  f. 

No  passage  in  the  epic  or  anywhere  else  shows  more  clearly 
how  thoroughly  natural  phenomena  were  personified  by 


E.  WASHBURN  HOPKINS 


229 


the  Hindus.  Ganges  is  not  a remote  celestial  personifica- 
tion. The  river  is  within  sight  of  the  poet  as  he  writes ; 
by  the  side  of  the  warrior  of  whom  he  sings.  She  is  still 
th  estream ; she  still  “stands  in  water”;  yet  at  the  same 
time  she  holds  the  reins  of  the  warrior’s  steeds.  Nothing 
could  be  more  personal  and  humanly  divine  than  Jahnavl, 
‘daughter  of  Jahnu,’  as  here  depicted. 

More  conventional  is  the  conduct  of  Ganges  when  Bhishma 
is  wounded  unto  death.  She  sends  the  great  seers  to  salute 
and  comfort  him  on  his  death-bed,  from  her  far-off  home 
in  the  mountains.  They  fly  as  swans  to  the  dying  hero  and 
with  their  wings  cool  his  fevered  face,  vi.  119.  97.  But  this 
hero  takes  long  to  die,  and  the  lament  of  Ganges  comes  in 
more  appropriately  on  his  actual  decease,  at  xiii.  169.  21  f., 
when  she  is  consoled  by  the  news  that  her  hero  was  really 
a god,  who  for  a curse  had  been  born  as  a man  ( vasur  esha 
mahatejas,  etc.,  ibid.  vs.  31). 

As  a river  goddess  she  here  rises  from  the  Ganges  River, 
where  the  obsequies  of  her  son  are  performed,  and  “weeps 
bitterly,  overcome  with  grief,”  asking  passionately  why  her 
heart  does  not  break  when  her  warrior  son  is  dead,  and 
proudly  recounts  his  glorious  deeds.  It  is  a little  surprising 
that  so  great  a goddess  does  not  know  that  her  son  is  a Vasu 
god ; but  here  also  the  womanly  character  submerges  the 
divine,  and  the  revelation  is  made  to  her  by  a still  greater 
divinity,  Vishnu  himself  in  human  form. 

New  Haven, 

August,  1911. 


THE  TWO  GREAT  NATURE  SHRINES  OF 
ISRAEL:  BETHEL  AND  DAN 

John  Punnett  Peters 
St.  Michael’s  Church,  New  York 

Let  me  commence  with  an  extract  from  the  diary  of  my 
second  journey  to  Palestine,  bearing  date  August  5, 1902,  when 
I approached  Bethel  by  the  road  from  the  north : “A  little 
beyond  Yabrud  we  came  to  the  top  of  all  things.  Behind  us 
the  mountains  were  like  the  waves  of  a stormy  cross  sea, with 
a white  village  perched  here  and  there  on  their  tops,  like 
foam  on  the  crests  of  the  waves.  To  the  west,  beyond  a 
series  of  mountain  tops,  stretched  far  below  the  blue  Medi- 
terranean. To  the  south,  descending,  there  was  a great 
plateau,  in  which  in  the  distance  Jerusalem  lay  spread  out  in 
imposing  state.  Only  to  the  east  we  could  see  no  whither, 
as  the  land  was  still  as  high  as  we  or  higher.  Just  a little 
lower  than  we,  and  close  at  hand  was  Beitin.  And  now  I 
thought  I understood  why  Bethel  had  been  so  great  a high 
place.  To  the  north  of  the  village,  and  a little  above,  almost 
on  the  roof  of  the  world,  was  a stone  field  of  marvellously 
piled  up  natural  stone  heaps.  Until  I went  in  and  exam- 
ined them  I really  thought  they  had  been  built  by  man.  I 
could  imagine  that  one  of  these  was  Jacob’s  stone,  and  here 
the  ladder  into  heaven,  and  this  the  site  of  the  famous  shrine 
of  Bethel ; but  I could  find  no  signs  of  ancient  occupation, 
no  remains  of  old  walls,  no  whitish  ruin  soil,  so  distinct  from 
the  red  virgin  earth,  no  pieces  of  pottery,  not  even  fragments 
of  worked  flint.  Some  distance  to  the  east,  across  a deep 
ravine  from  Beitin,  lie  some  ruins  known  as  the  Burj,  but 
these  are  late.  In  the  village  itself  the  only  ancient  remains 
are  part  of  the  walls  of  a very  large  pool,  now  used  as  the 
village  threshing  floor.  To  the  west  of  the  village  are  visible 

231 


232 


NATURE  SHRINES  OF  ISRAEL 


the  foundations  of  a wall.  On  the  road  to  Bireh,  below 
Beitin  but  close  to  it,  were  some  interesting  remains  of  pools, 
a roek-cut  aqueduct,  troughs,  etc.,  intended  to  utilize  springs 
which  come  out  of  the  rocks.  There  was  also  a grotto  of 
considerable  size  cut  in  the  rock,  with  rock-hewn  pillars  sup- 
porting the  roof,  and  niches,  as  though  for  statues,  a little 
way  from  the  door  on  both  sides.  The  whole  reminded  me 
of  the  grotto  of  Pan  at  Banias.” 

I came  near  to  the  truth  in  this  account,  but  I was  still 
hampered  by  a mistaken  idea  of  what  I ought  to  find  at 
Bethel.  Twelve  years  before,  fresh  from  my  explorations 
in  Babylonia  and  along  the  Euphrates,  I had  visited  the  place 
and  had  searched  the  neighborhood  for  the  remains  of  an 
ancient  temple.  I came  away  at  that  time  with  a sense  of 
disappointment,  because  I found  no  ruins  of  any  apparent 
moment.  It  had  not  occurred  to  me  to  examine  the  natural 
phenomena  of  the  place.  I had  not  approached  it  by  the 
same  route,  and  those  had  not  forced  themselves  on  my  at- 
tention. But  even  if  they  had,  I doubt  whether  at  that  time 
I should  have  perceived  their  significance,  because  I was  still 
under  the  bondage  of  traditional  ideas  with  regard  to  the  in- 
terpretation of  Jacob’s  vision  in  Gen.  xxviii.,  and  with  regard 
to  the  nature  of  the  temple  and  the  worship  at  Bethel.  Now, 
my  attention  aroused,  I went  back  not  once,  but  several  times, 
and  searched  Bethel  and  the  whole  country  thereabout  most 
carefully. 

In  the  visit  recorded  above  I had  noticed  troughs,  rough 
cuttings  in  caves  along  the  road  southward  and  westward 
from  Beitin,  between  that  and  Bireh.  These  I found,  in 
looking  up  sources,  had  been  overlooked  or  very  cursorily 
examined  and  described  by  former  travellers.  On  them, 
commencing  with  the  cave  or  grotto  nearest  Bireh  and  about 
half-way  between  that  and  Beitin,  I made  the  following 
notes,  dated  August  19,  1902  : 

“These  are  called  by  Guerin  and  Robinson  'Ain  er-Ghazal, 
a name  which  we  could  not  hear.  Baedeker  mentions  their 
existence,  and  says  that  they  were  called  'Ayun  Haramiyeh 
in  the  Middle  Ages.  The  Survey  of  the  Palestine  Explora- 
tion Fund  notes  at  this  spot  'Ain  Kussis  and  ‘tombs.’  There 
are  no  tombs,  and  the  proper  name  is  'Ain  Kus’a.  There  is 


JOHN  PUNNETT  PETERS 


233 


a terrace  of  natural  rock,  from  eight  to  twelve  feet  above  the 
present  road.  To  this  steps  were  cut  on  the  western  side. 
In  the  face  of  the  rock  above  this  terrace,  following,  appar- 
ently, a rotten  vein  through  which  water  oozed,  a channel 
seven  feet  high  and  three  feet  broad  has  been  cut  in  the  rock 
for  about  ten  feet,  when  it  turns  sharply  to  the  east  and  runs 
a little  distance  further.  In  the  bottom  of  this  are  six  to  ten 
inches  of  water.  From  its  mouth  channels  carry  water  to  an 
extensive  system  of  rock-cut  basins  of  all  sorts,  shapes,  and 
sizes,  to  the  east.  A much  deeper  and  broader  channel  leads 
to  the  edge  of  the  terrace  or  platform,  then  turns  westward 
at  a right  angle,  and  conducts  the  water  into  the  side  of  a 
cave,  the  door  of  which  opens  on  the  present  road,  being  cut 
in  the  face  or  scarp  of  the  rock  which  forms  the  terrace  above. 
This  cave  is  about  forty  feet  east  and  west,  by  twenty-five 
feet  north  and  south,  and  the  roof  is  supported  by  two  col- 
umns hewn  out  of  the  living  rock.  In  front  of  it  in  the  road 
is  visible  the  coping  of  a circular  pool,  a beautiful  piece  of 
masonry.  A little  further  on  [i.e.  eastward],  in  the  face  of 
the  rock,  under  the  system  of  rock-cut  basins  mentioned 
above,  was  another  spring  oozing  out  of  a rot  or  flaw  in  the 
rock,  which  had  been  hollowed  out  artificially  for  some  dis- 
tance. The  water  from  this  was  caught  in  a rock-cut  trough, 
beneath  which  was  another  rock-cut  trough,  and  on  both 
sides  the  copings  of  rectangular  pools  are  visible  in  the  pres- 
ent road.  There  is  another  small  cave,  dry,  and  two  or 
three  niches  in  the  rock  face  at  this  level,  which  have  given 
rise  to  the  statement  of  the  Survey  that  there  are  tombs  at 
this  place.  These  are  in  reality,  I fancy,  the  commencement 
or  intention  of  large  caves,  like  the  one  mentioned  above.. 
Tombs  are  relatively  rare  in  this  section.  There  is  a large- 
one  across  the  wady  southward,  some  little  distance  to  the- 
east,  and  one  or  two  small  ones  elsewhere  in  this  valley,  but,, 
speaking  roughly,  they  are  infrequent  and  inconspicuous.. 
The  stream  which  runs  into  the  large  cave  seems  to  be  in- 
termittent at  this  season,  as  I have  seen  it  running  and  seen 
it  dry.  The  cave  is  full  of  mud  and  water,  in  which  grow 
beautiful  ferns.  Near  the  steps  above  mentioned,  on  the 
edge  of  the  scarp,  a wine  press  was  hewn  in  the  rock,  with  two 
steps  descending  into  it.  The  front  of  the  vat  is  now  broken 


234 


NATURE  SHRINES  OF  ISRAEL 


down.  Against  the  stone  wall  by  the  side  of  the  road,  about 
opposite  the  mouth  of  the  large  cave,  lies  a large  stone  olive 
press.  Tli is  extraordinary  system  of  rock-cut  waterworks 
and  the  like  lies  about  midway  between  Bireh  and  Beitin, 
villages  which  have  an  abundant  water  supply  of  their  own, 
in  the  neighborhood  of  no  village  or  ruin.  About  five  min- 
utes to  the  east  of  these  waterworks,  on  the  right  of  the 
road,  is  a very  well-built  oval  pool,  served  by  an  under- 
ground channel  from  a spring  on  the  hillside  above  [to  the 
left  of  the  road],  dry  at  this  season.  This  has  no  name  that 
we  could  learn.  About  ten  minutes  further,  as  one  ascends 
the  hill  toward  Beitin,  on  the  right-hand  side  of  the  road,  is 
another  spring,  oozing  out  of  a fault  in  the  base  of  the  rock, 
the  water  of  which  is  or  was  caught  in  a pool  inferior  in  work- 
manship to  those  mentioned  above.  The  Survey  calls  this 
pool  'Ain  es-Sultan ; we  heard  the  name  'Ain  Aqabeh.”  1 

Of  Bethel  itself  and  the  curious  stone  formations  in  its 
immediate  neighborhood  I made,  as  already  stated,  a num- 
ber of  very  careful  investigations.  The  following  memoran- 
dum from  my  diary,  bearing  date  of  August  21,  1902,  may 
supplement  the  description  already  given  : 

“Finding  nothing  new  at  Beitin,  we  crossed  the  beautiful 
and  highly  cultivated  valley  to  the  east,  among  the  fig  trees 
of  which,  on  the  sides  of  the  hill,  there  were,  they  told  us, 
some  tombs,  which  we  could  not  see,  to  Burj  Beitin,  on  the 
hill  beyond.  Here  there  was  a church,  and  the  stone  orna- 
mentation found  fixes  this  in  the  fifth  or  sixth  century  a.d. 
Out  of  these  ruins  the  Arabs  presumably  built  the  small 
castle,  the  ruins  of  which  constitute  the  present  Burj.  Then 
we  circled  around  on  the  hill  [to  the  north  and  west]  to  the 
strange  stone  circles  or  masses  to  the  north  of  Beitin.  These 
are  masses  of  rock  worn  into  strange  shapes  by  the  weather, 
looking  in  many  cases  as  though  hewn  by  the  hand  of  man, 
or  as  though  at  least  man  had  set  one  stone  upon  another. 
I presume  that  it  is  this  field  of  stones,  with  its  weird  and 
artificial  aspect,  which  gave  rise  to  the  story  of  Jacob’s  pil- 
low and  pillar  at  Bethel.  None  of  us  could  find  any  signs  of 

1 1 had  the  pleasure  of  calling  the  attention  of  Rev.  Mr.  Hanauer  and  Mr.  Mac- 
alister  to  these  springs  and  waterworks,  which  they  examined  carefully,  publishing 
their  accounts  in  the  Palestine  Exploration  Fund  Quarterly,  1903. 


JOHN  PUNNETT  PETERS 


235 


artificial  working  of  the  stones.  Here  and  at  Burj  Beitin, 
strangely  enough,  I found  fragments  of  corrugated  Roman 
pottery,  but  pottery  fragments  were  scarce  at  both  places, 
and  in  the  stone  field  the  soil  was  red,  virgin  earth.” 

In  general  the  natural  phenomena  of  Bethel  and  its  neigh- 
borhood may  be  thus  described.  Bethel  is  on  the  southern 
slope  of  the  crest  of  the  watershed  between  north  and  south, 
2890  feet  above  the  sea.  Just  north  of  it  the  watershed 
rises  in  the  form  of  a rocky  crest,  sharply  marked,  the  ground 
falling  off  rapidly  to  north  and  south.  This  is  a genuine 
climax,  to  transliterate  the  Greek  word  (/e\i/xa|)  by  which 
the  ladder  of  Gen.  xxviii.  is  translated  in  the  Septuagint.  A 
little  below  this  crest,  on  its  southern  slope,  a few  rods  east- 
ward of  the  highroad  and  northward  of  the  modern  village 
of  Beitin,  is  the  remarkable  stone  group  just  described,  a 
field  rather  than  a circle  of  stone  columns.  Beyond  this, 
eastward,  the  land  drops,  forming  the  commencement  of  the 
wady,  which,  passing  to  the  east  of  Bethel,  forms  the  natural 
road  down  into  the  Jordan  valley.  Across  this  wady,  at 
its  very  head,  there  is  another  smaller  group  of  similar  rock 
columns. 

Bethel  itself  is  admirably  situated,  not  for  defence,  but  as 
a centre  of  pilgrimage.  A natural  road  to  the  Jordan  valley 
debouches,  as  already  stated,  at  or  immediately  below  the 
town,  where  a road  from  the  Mediterranean  plain  over  the 
Beth-Horon  pass  connects  with  it.  It  is  also  on  the  natural 
highroad  from  north  to  south.  There  is  an  excellent  supply 
of  water  at  Bethel  itself,  not  to  speak  of  the  various  fountains 
southward,  which  I have  already  mentioned,  with  their 
curious  rock-cuttings.  On  the  other  hand  there  are  in  all 
that  neighborhood  no  evidences  of  any  great  walled  town  or 
any  large  temple  building,  such  as  distinguished  Jerusalem ; 
nor,  in  point  of  fact,  should  we  expect  these  things  at  Bethel. 

The  political  and  religious  revolt  of  Israel  under  Jeroboam 
was  a revolt  against  what  was  represented  by  Jerusalem  and 
its  temple.  It  was  a call  back  to  the  simplicity  of  the  past 
in  state  and  church,  in  protest  against  the  Phoenician  temple, 
palace,  and  citadel  of  Solomon.  Now  while  the  Jerusalem 
temple  was  built  on  a height,  utilizing  a natural  rock  altar 
with  a grotto  beneath  it  as  its  central  feature,  it  was 


236 


NATURE  SHRINES  OF  ISRAEL 


never  a nature  slirine.  It  achieved  its  significance  by  its 
great  temple  erected,  after  Phoenician  models,  by  Phoenician 
workmen.  This  temple,  connected  with  the  palace  of  the 
king,  was  an  essential  feature  of  the  magnificent  Oriental 
despotism  which  Solomon  undertook  to  establishing  Israel. 
It  symbolized  and  was  connected  with  the  standing  army, 
the  foreign  guards,  the  compulsory  service  (kourbash)  of  the 
people,  and  especially  those  not  of  the  tribe  of  Judah. 

Israel  was  not  ripe  for  such  conditions,  and,  rebelling 
against  them,  asserted  its  ancient  tribal  and  local  freedom, 
and  at  the  same  time  and  for  the  same  reason  on  the  religious 
side  reverted  to  the  old  primitive,  nature,  out-of-door  worship, 
in  opposition  to  the  artificial  Phoenician  temple  worship  of 
Jerusalem.  But  if  a kingdom  was  to  be  established  with  any 
sort  of  organization,  capable  of  holding  its  own  against  the 
organized  kingdom  of  the  Davidic  dynasty,  with  its  grand 
new  temple,  it  was  necessary  to  localize  this  primitive  worship 
and  centralize  it  as  much  as  possible  within  the  limits  of  the 
kingdom  of  Israel.  Famous  nature  shrines  there  were  with 
which  Israel  was  connected  by  tradition,  like  Beersheba  or 
Horeb  or  Sinai,  but  these  lay  outside  of  Israel,  and  the  way 
to  them  led  past  Jerusalem.  Within  the  kingdom  itself 
there  were  two  great  nature  shrines,  — Bethel,  at  the  extreme 
south,  and  Dan,  at  the  extreme  north,  the  former,  and 
presumably  the  latter,  recognized  before  the  time  of  the 
Israelites  as  places  of  the  special  indwelling  of  God,  by 
reason  of  their  peculiar  nature  formations,  the  one  con- 
necting itself  with  stone  worship,  the  other  with  water  or 
fountain  worship. 

In  Jacob’s  vision  in  Genesis  xxviii.,  as  recorded  by  E,  un- 
doubtedly in  this  particular  the  older  of  the  two  sources  com- 
bined in  the  present  narrative,  we  have  a very  vivid  descrip- 
tion of  the  natural  features  of  Bethel.2  The  word  sullam, 
translated  ‘ladder’  in  this  narrative,  is  a ana £ Xeyo/ievov  in 
classical  Hebrew.  It  occurs,  however,  in  late  Hebrew  and 
Aramaic,  Phoenician,  and  Arabic,  meaning  a ladder  or  a 


2 Gen.  xxviii.  11,  12,  17,  18,  20-22.  The  narration  of  J is  contained  in  verses 
10,  13,  14,  16,  19a.  For  further  descriptions  of  situation  cf.  Gen.  xii.  8,  xiii.  3 ; Josh, 
vii.  2,  viii.  9-12,  xii.  9.  In  Judges  iv.  5,  we  find  that  the  Palm  of  Deborah  was  near 
Bethel. 


JOHN  PUNNETT  PETERS 


237 


ladder-like  ascent  or  height.  It  is  the  name  applied  to  the 
promontory  southward  of  Tyre,  known  to-day  as  the  ‘lad- 
der of  Tyre,’  and  also  to  the  passage  of  the  Euphrates  through 
the  Taurus  Mountains.  It  appears  to  indicate  in  these  cases 
a natural,  steplike  ascent,  precisely  such  as  we  have  at 
Bethel.  The  great  divide  above  Bethel  was  a sullam  or 
ladder,  a great  stage-tower,  if  we  may  so  put  it,  where 
Jacob,  the  ancient  sage  and  hero,  held  communion  with 
God,  because  this  ladder  was  at  one  of  the  doors  from  heaven 
to  earth.  And  here,  at  the  foot  of  this  ladder,  Jacob  erected 
stones  of  memorial,  because  there  he  saw  the  heavenly  high 
place. 

The  erection  of  stones  of  memorial  or  testimony  was  a cus- 
tom of  the  most  remote  antiquity,  as  of  the  present  time.  One 
need  only  refer  to  such  a passage  as  Gen.  xxxi.  47  f.  in  proof 
of  their  ancient  use  in  Palestine.  To-day  one  finds  such 
stones  of  testimony  or  memorial  all  over  the  country.  At 
the  point  where  a Moslem  first  catches  sight  of  a weli  or 
shrine  he  erects  such  a pile,  saying,  “Oh  ! so-and-so,  as  I 
bear  testimony  to  you  now,  so  bear  testimony  for  me  in  the 
day  of  judgment.”  As  you  come  up  the  road  from  the 
Philistine  plain  by  way  of  Beth-Horon,  at  the  point  where 
you  first  catch  sight  of  Jerusalem,  there  is  a great  number  of 
such  heaps,  — more,  I think,  than  I observed  at  any  other 
one  spot. 

In  shape  these  pillars  of  testimony  or  stones  of  memorial 
are  identical  with  the  curious  natural  columns  in  the  stone 
field  north  of  Bethel.  The  stones  in  these  pillars  of  testi- 
mony are  simply  set  dry  upon  one  another.  They  are  of  dif- 
ferent sizes  and  shapes ; sometimes  a larger  stone  is  set  upon 
a smaller,  but  the  natural  tendency  is  to  taper  upward.  In 
shape  they  are  identical  with  the  natural  columns  in  the 
field  north  of  Bethel,  although  the  latter  are  many  times 
larger.  So  exactly,  however,  do  these  resemble  memorial 
pillars  in  shape  and  general  appearance  that,  unless  one  exam- 
ines them  closely,  one  can  scarcely  be  induced  to  believe  that 
they  are  not  made  of  separate  stones  artificially  placed  one 
upon  the  other,  but  are  really  the  result  of  erosion  of  a rock 
field.  To  the  ordinary  eye  they  present  an  appearance  as 
though  some  one  with  many  times  the  strength  of  an  ordinary 


238 


NATURE  SHRINES  OF  ISRAEL 


man  had  piled  up  huge  boulders  for  pillars  of  testimony. 
Precisely  this  it  was  wdiieh  the  pre-Israelites  and  the  Israelites 
believed  had  been  done  by  Jacob,  the  mighty  hero  of  the 
past.  When,  in  the  vision  of  the  night,  he  realized  that  he 
was  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder  of  God,  where  heaven  and  earth 
were  joined,  he  took  stones  and  set  them  one  upon  another 
as  pillars  of  testimony. 

Recent  excavations  at  Gezer  have  made  us  familiar  with 
one  ancient  out-of-door  temple  and  have  shown  us  how  small 
a part  buildings  made  with  hands  played  in  that  ancient 
worship.  It  was  my  good  fortune,  in  1902,  to  be  present  and 
watch  the  excavation  of  that  temple  by  Mr.  Macalister. 
From  my  notes  of  September  23,  1902,  I extract  the  follow- 
ing, describing  the  stone  temple  as  I saw  it  : 

“It  commences  on  the  south  side  with  two  huge  stones, 
slight  ly  turned  one  toward  the  other.  Between  these  is  a much 
smaller  phallic  stone,  rubbed  smooth  on  the  top  and  upper 
sides  by  much  kissing,  touching,  and  anointing,  apparently. 
This  seems  to  have  been  the  original  sacred  stone,  by  which 
the  two  huge  stones  had  been  set  on  either  side  to  form,  as 
it  were,  a sanctuary  for  it.  To  the  north  of  these  stretched 
a line  of  five  stones  of  different  sizes,  some  of  them  very  large 
and  phallic  in  shape.  I can  only  suggest  that  these  were 
added  from  time  to  time  in  token  of  reverence.  All  about 
these  stones,  especially  on  the  western  side  and  near  the  orig- 
inal phallic  stone,  were  found  quantities  of  phalli  of  dif- 
ferent sizes,  almost  all  of  stone.  At  a lower  level  and  to  the 
east  of  the  stones  is  a large  cave  with  several  openings.  - - At 
one  point  on  this  side  were  burials  of  infants  in  jars.  - - To 
the  west  of  the  row  of  pillars,  and  in  front,  I think,  of  the 
fourth  one  north  from  the  phallus,  was  a huge  square  block 
of  quarried  stone,  with  a square  basin  in  the  top.  - - The 
worshippers  appear  to  have  approached  on  the  west,  and  on 
that  side  especially  were  found  the  votive,  or  ritual,  phalli  of 
stone  and  pottery.” 

As  at  Gezer,  so,  I fancy,  it  was  at  Bethel.  Whatever  there 
may  have  been  in  the  way  of  original  building  was  insignifi- 
cant, and  played  an  unimportant  part.  The  stones  were  the 
objects  of  worship  ; they  constituted  the  temple  and  its  shrines, 
in  which  dwelt  God  or  the  gods.  Somewhere  at  Bethel  I 


JOHN  PUNNETT  PETERS 


239 


suppose,  stood  the  golden  bull,  by  which  the  worship  of  that 
sanctuary  was  technically  connected  with  Yahaweh.  There 
probably  were  also  booths  or  huts  for  the  accommodation 
of  priests  and  prophets,  but  there  were  no  important  struc- 
tures. The  worshippers  camped  about  in  the  open.  They 
came  to  the  stones  and  presumably  touched  them  with  their 
hands  and  kissed  them.  Some  one  stone,  I fancy,  was  a spe- 
cial mazzebah,  the  others  constituting  the  surrounding  shrines 
or  sanctuaries,  as  at  Gezer.  At  the  latter  place,  as  already 
noted,  we  can  still  identify  the  original  mazzebah,  because  it 
has  been  rubbed  smooth  by  the  anointing,  kissing,  and 
handling  of  the  worshippers.  But  that  was  protected  from 
the  weather  under  a great  mass  of  earth.  The  stones  of  Bethel, 
through  all  these  ages,  have  been  exposed  to  wind  and  weather, 
and  any  marks  of  handling  have  long  since  been  worn  away. 

When  the  nature  of  the  great  Israelite  temple  at  Bethel 
and  the  character  of  its  worship  are  once  realized,  a new 
significance  is  given  to  the  frequent  use  of  the  word  Rock  as 
a title  of  God  in  Hebrew  literature  and  particularly  in  He- 
brew poetry,  which  naturally  preserves  the  older  forms  and 
uses.3  Rock  worship  was,  as  we  know,  common  in  Israel, 
as  it  had  been  through  all  that  region  in  earlier  times,  as  it 
was  in  primitive  Greece,  in  Ireland,  England,  and  in  fact 
among  primitive  peoples  the  world  over.  Sacred  stones,  in 
which  there  was  a special  presence  of  God,  are  still  used  in 
many  parts  of  the  land,  but  for  Israel  this  stone  worship 
found  its  most  striking  expression  and,  so  to  speak,  its  can- 
onization in  Bethel.4 

If  in  Bethel  we  find  stone  worship  canonized,  similarly  in 
Dan  we  find  a canonization  of  the  worship  of  God  as  the 
life-giving  power,  expressing  himself  in  the  outpouring  of 
the  waters  from  the  deep  beneath  the  earth.  I venture 
again  to  quote  from  my  diary  under  date  of  July  24,  1902, 
an  account  of  a visit  to  Tel  Kadi  and  Banias  : 

3 Cf.  Ps.  xviii.  2,  xxviii.  1 ; Deut.  xxxii.  4,  18,  30,  31 ; 2 Sam.  xxii.  32,  xxiii.  3 ; 
Is.  xvii.  10,  xliv.  8.  Cf.  also  the  proper  names  in  Num.  i.  5,  6,  10,  iii.  35,  xxxiv.  28. 
Gen.  xlix.  24  may  be  a direct  reference  to  Bethel.  If  1 Sam.  xxx.  27  really  refers  to 
Bethel,  then  in  this  case  Bethel  and  Bethsur  seem  to  be  synonymous.  Cf.  LXX. 

4 For  the  great  sanctity  of  this  place  through  the  whole  of  preexilic  history  cf. 
Gen.  xxxv.  1-16;  1 Sam.  vii.  16,  x.  3;  1 Ki.  xii.  29-33;  2 Ki.  ii.  2f.,  23;  Amos 
vii.  13,  and  many  other  passages  in  Amos  and  Hosea. 


240 


NATURE  SHRINES  OF  ISRAEL 


“Tel  Kadi  was  a delightful  surprise.  It  is  a hill  about 
1000  feet  long  and  one-third  as  wide,  rising  at  the  southern 
end  perhaps  70  to  100  5 feet  above  the  plain,  at  the  northern 
a little  less,  and  lower  in  the  middle.  It  is  covered  with  a 
thick  growth  of  trees.  Out  of  the  west  side  come  many 
springs  uniting  in  one  large  stream,  and  out  of  the  very 
centre  of  the  tel  gushes  a still  finer  stream  with  a great  roar. 
The  whole  air  is  full  of  the  sound  of  ‘ water  pipes  ’ calling  to 
one  another,  as  the  42d  Psalm  has  it.  That  psalm  was 
composed  by  the  side  of  one  of  these  great  rushing,  roaring 
sources  of  the  Jordan,  presumably  at  the  ancient  temple  of 
Dan,  which  stood  hereabout.  Near  where  this  stream 
throws  itself  over  the  edge  of  the  tel  to  the  south,  by  the  grave 
of  a Moslem  sheikh,  under  a couple  of  magnificent  terebinth  6 
trees  we  rested.  - - By  the  side  of  the  stream  at  the  southern 
end  of  the  tel  is  its  highest  point,  and  here  are  rough  remains 
of  older  buildings  of  basalt  blocks.  But  in  general  the  tel 
shows  a brown,  virgin-colored  earth,  not  the  whitish  soil 
characteristic  of  all  old  ruin  sites  in  this  country.  A little 
over  half  an  hour  to  the  east,  up  in  a nook  on  a low  terrace 
in  the  mountain,  another  spring  bursts  [or  rather  several 
springs]  out  of  the  ground  in  front  of  a huge  cave.  These 
springs  are  not  so  impressive  in  volume  as  those  at  Tel 
Kadi,  and  the  roar  and  rush  is  less.  On  the  other  side  the 
position,  just  below  a great  cave  in  the  side  of  a cliff,  is 
grand ; and  this  site  was  holy  in  the  Greek  period.  A 
grotto  to  Pan  was  cut  out  by  the  side  of  the  great  cave, 
above  which  is  a niche  for  a statue.  Two  other  niches  with 
statues  stood  a little  lower  down.  Underneath  all  of  these 
were  inscriptions  and  reliefs  cut  in  the  rock  ; these  have  been 
effaced,  presumably  by  the  Arabs,  but  a few  letters  have 
been  deciphered,  enough  to  show  their  general  purport. 
Under  the  niche  next  west  from  the  grotto  I made  out,  as  I 
thought,  a ram.  Above  the  cave,  a little  to  the  west,  is  a 
Moslem  well,  showing  that  the  sanctity  of  the  place  lias 
lingered  on  to  the  present  day.  It  is  somewhat  of  a ques- 
tion whether  this  rather  than  Tel  Kadi  was  not  the  site  of  the 
old  temple  of  Dan.” 

6 Authorities  give  it  variously,  I find,  as  from  30  to  78  feet  and  over,  apparently 
varying  according  to  the  point  at  which  they  view  it.  6 Really  oak,  I believe. 


JOHN  PUNNETT  PETERS 


241 


In  relation  to  the  site  of  Dan  as  of  Bethel  travellers  and 
writers  on  the  antiquities  of  Palestine  have,  I think,  been  led 
astray  by  a false  conception  of  the  nature  of  the  remains  of 
the  ancient  temple  and  town  which  were  to  be  sought  at  that 
spot.  Doubtless  the  whole  neighborhood  of  the  sources  was 
sacred,  but  I am  inclined  after  most  careful  consideration  7 
to  think,  from  the  situation  itself,  as  well  as  from  the  Bible 
references,  that  the  Israelite  sanctuary  was  by  the  great 
fountain  Leddan  on  Tel  Kadi.8  George  Adam  Smith  in- 
clines toward  Banias,  because  there  is  no  evidence  about  Tel 
Kadi  of  walls,  fortifications,  and  the  like.  We  should  expect 
them  at  this  site  no  more  than  at  Bethel.  The  very  essence 
of  this  sanctuary  was,  so  to  speak,  its  openness.  It  was  a 
nature  sanctuary. 

Bethel  plays  a large  part  in  Bible  story,  Dan  a small  one. 
That  is  owing,  I presume,  not  to  any  inferiority  of  sanctity 
in  Dan,  but  to  the  position  of  Bethel  in  relation  to  Samaria 
and  Jerusalem,  especially  the  latter,  the  source  from  which 
our  knowledge  of  the  history  and  the  remains  of  the  litera- 
ture of  Israel  is  derived.  There  is,  however,  one  little  col- 
lection of  psalms  in  which  we  have,  I believe,  an  echo  of  the 
sanctity  of  Dan,  and  fragments  of  the  songs  which  were  sung 
at  the  great  pilgrim  festivals  held  there.  Obscured  as  it  is  by 
later  revisions  made  for  the  purpose  of  adapting  it  to  the  use 
of  the  Jerusalem  temple,  Psalm  xlii.  still  throbs  with  the 
memory  of  the  waters  and  fountains  that  rush  and  roar  at 
Dan;  and  Psalm  xlvi.,  of  the  same  collection  of  the  psalms 
of  the  sons  of  Korah,  celebrates  the  sanctuary  whose  claim 
to  sanctity  was  that  it  lay  at  the  source  of  “ the  river  whose 
streams  make  glad  the  city  of  God,  the  shrine  of  the  dwell- 
ing place  of  the  Highest.” 

7 Before  visiting  the  place  I had  favored  the  site  at  Banias.  My  visit  in  1902, 
when  I spent  several  days  in  the  neighborhood,  and  my  subsequent  studies,  have 
caused  a change  of  view. 

8 Can  Tel  Kadi  be  the  “ little  hill  ” or  hill  of  Mizar  in  Psalm  xlii.  ? 


ASIANIC  INFLUENCE  IN  GREEK 
MYTHOLOGY 

William  Hayes  Ward 
New  York  City 

In  an  article  contributed  to  the  current  volume  in  honor 
of  Professor  Charles  A.  Briggs,  I have  attempted  to  show 
how  the  chief  Hittite,  or  Asianic,  deities  passed  over  into 
the  Ionian  and  Greek  mythology  and  kept  to  a great  extent 
their  Oriental  form  and  attributes.  I urged  that  very  little 
influence  came  either  from  Phoenicia  or  from  Egypt,  and 
very  little  directly  from  either  Babylonia  or  Assyria,  but 
that  whatever  influence  came  from  Babylonia  was  trans- 
mitted to  the  Ionian  coast  through  Hittite  and  Mitannian 
mediums.  Indeed,  it  is  clear,  I think,  that  almost  nothing 
was  derived  from  the  Semitic  Assyrians,  who  accepted  more 
from  their  northern  neighbors  than  they  gave. 

While  special  interest  attaches  to  the  chief  three  or  four 
Hittite  deities  and  their  transfer  to  the  Greek  religion,  there 
are  yet  other  lines  of  connection  which  perhaps  have  not 
been  sufficiently  considered,  and  to  some  of  these  it  is  the 
purpose  of  this  paper  to  call  attention. 

The  Greek  ideas  of  the  lower  world,  the  world  of  the  dead, 
deserve  some  study.  They  come  down  to  us  from  the  story 
of  the  Trojan  War.  Were  they  Asianic  ? 

The  Greek  mythology  gives  us  an  underworld  where  the 
good  live  in  bliss,  and  the  wicked  suffer  punishment ; where 
the  ruler  and  judge  is  Hades,  also  called  Pluto.  He  sits  on 
his  throne  as  ruler  of  the  shades,  holding  his  sceptre  as  his 
mark  of  authority,  and  three  judges  stand  by  him  as  assessors, 
Minos,  Aiakos,  and  Rhadamanthys.  He  has  a wife  Perseph- 
one, whom  he  seized  by  force.  There  is  classical  authority 
for  the  belief  that  he  was  the  original  god  of  the  Caucones, 
who  dwelt,  according  to  Strabo,  on  the  seacoast  of  Bithynia 

243 


244  ASIANIC  INFLUENCE  IN  GREEK  MYTHOLOGY 


and  Paphlagonia;  that  is,  he  was  an  Asianic  rather  than 
a Greek  divinity.  His  three  assessors,  or  judges,  Minos, 
Aiakos,  and  Rhadamanthys,  are  credited  to  Crete,  where 
they  are  said  to  have  lived  at  a period  three  generations 
before  the  Trojan  War.  We  now  know  that  the  flourishing 
Minoan  period  of  Knossos  and  Crete,  as  excavated  by  Evans 
and  others,  goes  far  back  of  the  Aehsean  immigration.  It 
had  close  relations  with  both  Asia  Minor  and  Egypt,  the  two 
seats  of  culture,  but  developed  its  own  peculiar  civilization. 

Equally  with  Greece,  the  Babylonians  placed  a god  and 
a goddess  in  control  of  the  lower  world.  Their  notion  of 
the  lower  world  was  much  the  same  as  that  of  the  Greeks, 
but  very  little  like  that  of  the  Egyptians.  If  the  Greek 
doctrine  was  derived  from  any  outside  source,  it  was  from 
Asia  and  not  from  Egypt.  Both  the  Greeks  and  the  Baby- 
lonians had  their  stories  of  the  descent  into  the  lower  world. 
We  have  that  of  Ishtar  and  Hasisadra  on  the  one  side,  and 
those  of  Herakles,  Theseus,  and  Odysseus  on  the  other. 
Such  stories  and  such  beliefs  must  have  had  a common  origin. 

The  two  rulers  of  the  Greek  underworld,  Hades  (or  Pluto) 
and  Persephone,  are  the  parallels  to  Nergal  and  Allat  as  the 
riders  of  the  Babylonian  realm  of  the  shades.  As  Nergal 
obtained  his  spouse  by  violence,  such  was  the  rape  of  Per- 
sephone by  Pluto.  The  Babylonian  story  was  very  old,  for 
we  have  it  apparently  figured  on  two  seals  of  a period  as  old 
as  the  elder  Sargon  (see  Ward,  The  Seal  Cylinders  of  Western 
Asia,  pp.  149-151,  figs.  399,  400).  In  one  of  these  seals 
Nergal,  identified  as  a god  by  his  solar  rays,  attacks  the  bent 
tree  under  which  Allat  sits  on  her  throne ; while  on  the  other 
we  have  two  scenes,  one  the  attack  with  the  axe  against 
the  tree,  and  the  other  her  forced  acceptance  of  him  as  her 
spouse.  It  would  seem  that  there  must  have  been  some 
connection  between  the  two  stories  and  a common  origin, 
yet  I do  not  believe  that  this  Greek  mythologic  element 
came  directly  from  Babylonia.  It  is  much  more  likely  that 
it  came  in  a modified  form  through  the  Hittite  civilization 
of  Asia  Minor. 

I have  spoken  of  the  three  assessor  judges,  Minos,  Aiakos, 
and  Rhadamanthys.  In  the  Egyptian  religion  there  were 
forty-two  such  judges,  who  sat  while  Thoth  weighed  the  heart 


WILLIAM  HAYES  WARD 


245 


of  the  dead.  It  might  seem  that  the  Greek  court  of  three 
judges  was  derived  directly  from  the  Egyptian,  but  I think 
not.  There  were  no  scales  held  by  Pluto,  and  the  three 
judges  had  an  authority  superior  to  that  of  the  forty-two 
Egyptian  assessors  before  whom  the  dead  passed,  declaring 
in  the  presence  of  each  that  he  had  not  been  guilty  of  some 
specific  sin.  Once  more,  I think,  we  have  evidence  that  the 
three  were  derived  from  an  early  Asianic  source.  If  we 
except  the  two  designs  already  mentioned  representing  the 
seizure  of  Allat  by  Nergal,  I do  not  remember  any  clear 
Babylonian  representation  of  the  lower  world  ; for  the  ex- 
traordinary funerary  tablet  described  by  Clermont-Gan- 
neau,  and  several  others  of  the  same  sort,  seem  to  be  very 
late.  But  we  do  have  on  the  seal  cylinders  several  repre- 
sentations of  the  underworld  from  the  Asianic  region  and 
period.  In  one  of  these  (Seal  Cylinders,  p.  283,  fig.  857), 
we  see  the  deceased  lying  on  a bier  with  flames  rising  from  his 
burning  body.  Below  is  the  food  for  his  use  in  the  lower 
world,  both  meat  and  drink.  The  god  of  the  lower  world 
sits  on  his  throne,  and  a bifrons  herald  presents  three  figures, 
indicated  by  their  peculiar  reversed  crook,  or  lituus,  as  kings. 
Were  this  the  only  case  in  which  we  find  them,  we  might  not 
understand  what  is  their  relation  to  the  scene ; but  we  again 
find  ( ibidem , fig.  855)  these  same  three  in  the  same  position 
before  the  god.  In  yet  another  case  (fig.  854)  the  lower 
register  shows  the  attendant  spirits  of  the  lower  world  bring- 
ing food  to  the  ghost  of  the  dead.  It  is  more  than  probable,  I 
think,  that  the  three  royal  figures  that  stand  before  the  seated 
god  correspond  to  Minos,  Aiakos,  and  Rhadamanthys  of  the 
Greek  judgment  scene. 

A word  as  to  Artemis.  The  many-breasted  Diana  of  the 
Ephesians  is  as  different  as  can  be  conceived  from  the  con- 
ventional Greek  Artemis,  the  modest  maiden  goddess  who 
changed  Aktaion  to  a stag  hunted  by  his  own  hounds  for 
the  crime  of  having  seen  her  at  her  bath.  That  there  is  an 
Artemis  native  to  Asia  Minor  is  abundantly  recognized,  apart 
from  any  Greek  Artemis ; but  the  two  were  confused,  and 
the  most  composite  of  all  Greek  deities  is  Artemis.  She  is 
the  moon,  sister  of  Apollo,  the  sun  ; she  is  also  the  daughter 
of  Demeter  and  identified  with  Persephone  and  Hekate,  the 


246  ASIANIC  INFLUENCE  IN  GREEK  MYTHOLOGY 


goddess  of  the  underworld.  She  is  the  modest  huntress 
maiden,  and  yet  is,  with  Dionysos,  honored  with  obscene 
dances  and  orgies.  She  is  the  fighting  goddess  who,  as  an 
infant,  slew  the  daughters  of  Niobe,  and  who  killed  giants, 
and  yet,  as  Eileithyia,  she  is  the  goddess  of  childbirth.  She 
is  a complex,  arising  from  the  worship  of  a Greek  and  autoch- 
thonous population  of  Greece  and  the  Greek  islands  and 
that  of  Asianic  peoples.  We  know  of  no  Asianic  goddess 
of  the  moon,  although  we  have  the  Phoenician  Astarte. 

The  familiar  Greek  Artemis  appears  to  have  very  little 
relation  to  the  Diana  of  the  Ephesians  whose  image  fell 
down  from  Jupiter.  Nor  is  there  any  Hittite  goddess  to 
whom  she  seems  allied.  A winged  goddess  on  a bronze  plate 
from  Olympia  (Roscher,  sub  voce , ‘Artemis,’  vol.  1,  part  1, 
col.  564),  lifting  two  lions  by  the  hind  foot  like  Gilgamesh, 
is  called  the  Asiatic  Artemis,  because  Artemis  was  the  hunter 
and  the  protector  of  wild  beasts.  The  Assyrian  Ishtar,  who 
differs  from  the  Babylonian  Ishtar,  might  seem  to  be  re- 
lated to  the  Greek  Artemis.  She  is  decked  with  bows  and 
stars,  and  stands  on  a lion.  To  be  sure  the  Ephesian  Diana 
also  stands  on  a lion,  but  there  is  no  other  relation  between 
the  two,  and  there  is  no  clear  evidence  that  Artemis  was 
related  to  the  Assyrian  Ishtar,  although  not  improbably 
the  Assyrian  Ishtar,  standing  on  a lion,  and  figured  in  the 
same  position  in  Egyptian  art  as  an  Asiatic  goddess,  was  re- 
lated to  the  Greek  goddess  of  the  chase  as  truly  as  to  the 
Babylonian  Ishtar. 

There  is  a considerable  number  of  cases  in  which  the 
parallel  is  so  close  between  the  Greek  myth  and  the  Oriental 
myth  or  art  that  it  seems  in  every  way  likely  that  the  later 
Western  was  derived  from  the  older  Eastern.  We  who 
live  in  a scientific  age  cannot  appreciate  the  easy  credulity 
with  which  pictures  or  sculptures  of  strange  composite 
beings  would  lead  to  the  belief  that  such  creatures  had  actual 
existence  in  some  distant  land.  The  unicorn  was  supposed 
to  be  a veritable  animal  simply  because  the  bull  was  figured 
in  profile  with  but  one  horn  showing.  Unicorns  had  been 
carved  as  stone  pictures  on  temple  walls ; gods  and  monsters 
of  all  sorts  figured  on  seals  and  silver  bowls  carried  in  trade 
everywhere;  and  it  was  natural  to  believe  that 


WILLIAM  HAYES  WARD 


247 


“ a gryphon  through  the  wilderness. 

Pursues  the  Arimaspian,  who  by  stealth 
Had  from  his  wakeful  custody  purloined 
The  guarded  gold.” 

— Milton’s  Paradise  Lost,  ii.  943. 

It  did  not  seem  incredible  to  our  ancestors  a few  generations 
ago  that  St.  George  killed  a dragon,  yet  all  the  evidence  that 
there  were  dragons  was  based  on  the  familiar  art  that  had 
come  down  from  a hoary  antiquity.  Art  made  such  “gor- 
gons  and  hydras  and  chimeras  dire,”  seem  as  veritable  to 
them  as  trolls  and  giants  “and  yellow-skirted  fays”  to  our 
childhood.  Why  then  should  not  the  Ionian  Greeks  have 
believed  in  the  actual  existence,  farther  to  the  East,  of  the 
monsters  which  they  saw  figured  on  amulets  and  seals  and  in 
larger  form  on  the  friezes  of  the  palaces  and  temples  of  the 
peoples  with  whom  they  traded  and  lived  ? and  why  should 
they  not  have  adopted  them  into  their  own  mythology  and 
art  ? Such  a composite  monster  as  that  from  a Syro- 
Hittite  palace  at  Senjirli,  a sphinx  springing  from  the  shoulder 
of  a lion,  might  well  have  given  origin  to  the  Greek  chimera 
slain  by  Bellerophon,  with  its  second  head  growing  out  of  the 
back  of  a lion. 

Whence  did  the  Greeks  get  their  griffins,  centaurs,  and 
sphinxes  ? The  griffins  were  ornaments  on  vessels  in  Egypt 
from  the  eighteenth  to  the  twentieth  dynasties,  but  they  did 
not  originate  in  Egypt ; they  originated  in  Asia,  and  it  was 
from  Asia  that  they  entered  into  Mycenaean  art ; we  find 
them  familiar  in  the  Hittite  period.  Neither  did  they  come 
directly  from  Babylonia,  for  the  early  composite  of  Baby- 
lonia was  a monster  with  the  head  of  a lion  and  the  body  of 
an  eagle,  while  the  true  griffin  has  the  head  of  an  eagle  and 
the  body  of  a lion.  Egypt  and  Greece  both  took  the  griffin 
from  the  Hittite  culture  of  Asia  Minor. 

The  centaurs  were  the  youngest  of  these  composite  figures. 
The  Greeks  had  the  feeling  that  they  were  foreign,  and  rep- 
resented them  as  beaten  back  by  the  young  Greek  Lapithse, 
the  old  order  yielding  to  the  new.  It  was  the  manful  story 
which  Phidias  told  on  the  Parthenon.  We  have  the  centaur 
in  the  art  of  the  Hittite  period  on  two  seals  (Seal  Cylinders, 


248  ASIANIC  INFLUENCE  IN  GREEK  MYTHOLOGY 


figs.  631-633),  which  are  not  Assyrian.  The  centaur  does 
not  belong  to  Babylonian  or  Assyrian  art.  To  be  sure,  he 
finally  becomes  Sagittarius  and  was  placed  in  the  heavens, 
but  that  is,  I think,  comparatively  late. 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  any  sort  of  composite  monster 
may  be  devised  independently  in  different  regions.  Each 
country  has  its  own.  The  griffin  of  the  Hittites  is  a complex 
of  the  lion  and  the  eagle  different  from  that  of  Babylonia. 
The  monsters  of  Egypt  are  not  those  of  Babylonia.  A sphinx 
does  not  originate  twice.  It  is  transferred,  imported.  So 
a centaur  is  the  product  of  one  national  source,  and  if  we 
find  it  elsewhere  it  is  adventive.  Originating  with  one  of  the 
Asianic  peoples,  possibly  with  the  Kassites  (Seal  Cylinders, 
fig.  21),  it  spread  over  Asia  Minor  to  the  coasts  and  was 
adopted  into  Greek  mythology  as  truly  as  the  sphinx  whose 
riddle  was  guessed  by  (Edipus. 

The  sphinx  is  the  only  one  of  these  composite  monsters 
adopted  into  Greek  mythology  which  originated  in  Egypt, 
where  it  goes  back  into  the  earlier  dynasties,  and  from  which 
country  it  passed  over  into  the  coasts  of  Asia  and  thence 
eastward  into  Assyria  and  westward  into  Greece.  In  the 
case  of  the  sphinx,  Phoenicia  and  Syria  may  well  have  been 
the  region  from  which  the  Greeks,  and  before  them  the 
earlier  inhabitants,  received  the  foreign  mythological 
figure ; for  it  was  familiar  first  to  the  Egyptianized  Hauran 
region  (Seal  Cylinders,  fig.  811),  being  found  on  seals  that 
seem  to  go  back  of  the  eighteenth  dynasty,  and  it  was  com- 
mon in  the  later  Hittite  period.  It  did  not  reach  Assyria 
till  later,  not  being  familiar  there  much  before  the  reign  of 
Assurbanipal.  It  is  not  characteristic  of  Mycenaean  art, 
although  found  on  gold  ornaments  that  were  probably  im- 
ported. The  Greeks  learned  of  the  sphinx  later. 

In  Greek  story  Atlas  supported  the  heavens  on  his  shoul- 
ders, a very  curious  conceit.  But  the  Hittites  had  a similar 
conceit  which  became  familiar  also  to  the  Assyrians.  It 
represents  the  winged  disk,  Ashur,  or  Anu,  god  of  heaven, 
supported  by  two  stalwart  human-headed  bulls,  doubled  for 
symmetry.  We  have  it  on  the  famous  procession  of  Boghaz- 
keui,  and  it  is  often  repeated.  The  figure  of  the  bull  is  that 
of  Eabani,  friend  of  Gilgamesh,  and  we  remember  that 


WILLIAM  HAYES  WARD 


249 


Herakles,  the  Greek  Gilgamesh,  was  the  friend  of  Atlas,  and 
on  one  occasion  took  for  a while  Atlas’s  load.  For  the  Greek 
myth  of  Atlas  it  is  likely  that  we  can  find  the  source  in  the 
Hittite  supporters  of  the  winged  disk  which  represents  the 
god  of  Heaven,  the  Aryan  Varuna. 

The  phoenix  is  by  its  very  name  Asianic,  although  classi- 
cal writers  also  assigned  its  origin  to  Egypt.  Herodotos 
relates  it  to  Arabia,  and  adds  that  the  Assyrians  call  it 
phoenix.  It  was  often  referred  to  Ethiopia ; but  by 
Ethiopia  was  meant  the  Cush,  or  Kash,  of  Elam.  One 
would  like  to  find  the  phoenix  in  Oriental  as  well  as  in  classical 
art.  Very  likely  we  have  it,  but  while  in  the  vast  multitude 
of  classical  objects  of  art  we  find  the  phoenix  distinctly  rep- 
resented building  his  nest  for  his  incineration  and  resur- 
rection, or  already  in  the  flames,  we  have  only  one  cylinder 
(Seal  Cylinders,  p.  352)  with  a Sabsean  inscription,  from 
Arabia  or  from  Arabian  influence,  which  appears  to  repre- 
sent the  phoenix.  It  is  evidently  a mythical  bird,  of  com- 
posite form.  I do  not  know  that  the  phoenix  appears  in  either 
the  old  Babylonian  or  in  the  later  Assyrian  art.  To  be  sure, 
we  have  the  composite  bird  with  the  lion’s  head  which  is 
known  as  the  eagle  of  Lagash,  and  in  the  Assyrian  art  the 
ostrich  and  various  composite  birds  take  the  place  of  the 
dragon  with  which  Bel  Marduk  fights  or  which  guards  the 
tree  of  life"  but  none  of  these  seem  to  suggest  the  phoenix. 
Equally  we  miss  it  in  the  literature  of  Assyria  so  far  as  that 
is  recovered ; but  I am  inclined  to  find  it  on  the  broken 
Sabaean  seal  referred  to.  It  is  an  importation  into  Greece 
from  the  East,  but  not  through  the  usual  Ionian  channel. 

Dionysos,  or  Bakchos,  was  held  to  be  a Thracian  god,  and 
was  also  worshipped  in  Phrygia,  for  the  Phrygians  and 
Thracians  were  near  neighbors.  In  the  earlier  worship  of 
Dionysos  he  was  not  distinctively  the  god  of  the  vine; 
Homer  does  not  know  him  as  such.  Although  we  have  no 
definite  knowledge  how  he  happened  to  assume  that  role, 
we  may  conjecture  that  it  was  through  a Hittite  in- 
fluence ; for  we  have  one  figure  of  a locally  worshipped 
Hittite  god,  not  one  of  the  principal  gods,  carved  on  a rock 
at  Ibriz  and  nowhere  else  found,  who  corresponds  exactly  to 
the  more  familiar  character  of  Dionysos.  He  appears  all 


250  ASIANIC  INFLUENCE  IN  GREEK  MYTHOLOGY 


girdled  with  grapes  and  holding  as  a staff  tall  stalks  of  grain. 
He  would  be  instantly  recognized  as  Dionysos  but  for  the 
accompanying  old  Hittite  inscription.  We  may  think  of  him 
as  the  original  of  the  Greek  deity  of  the  vine,  who  as  such  was 
a comparatively  late  god. 

The  old  Roman  Janus  is  a bifrons.  The  earliest  knowledge 
we  have  of  a bifrons  is  from  archaic  Babylonian  art,  where, 
by  a naive  convention,  the  divine  attendant  of  a superior 
god  leads  in  a worshipper  or  a criminal  for  judgment  before 
Shamash  ; and  one  face  turns  with  respect  to  the  seated  god, 
while  the  other  watches  the  personage  behind  him.  I would 
not  believe  that  any  Latin  people  had  any  knowledge  of  the 
art  of  that  early  period,  but  the  convention  was  continued 
in  the  northern  regions  (Seal  Cylinders,  figs.  854-857),  and 
Hittite  art  shows  the  same  convention  in  a region  from  which 
it  might  well  have  been  transferred  to  the  settlers  of  the 
Ionian  coasts  and  thence  to  Magna  Graecia  and  the  Etrus- 
cans, — for  Janus  was  the  oldest  of  all  the  Latin  gods. 

We  have  the  Greek  story  of  Ganymedes  taken  up  to 
heaven  by  an  eagle  to  be  the  companion  of  the  gods.  Gany- 
medes was  the  son  of  Tros,  and  brother  of  Ilos  and  Assarakos. 
Now  those  names,  Tros,  Ilos,  and  Assarakos,  are  suspiciously 
Asiatic,  or  even  Semitic,  and  the  story  of  his  being  carried 
to  heaven  by  an  eagle  is  surprisingly  like  the  story  of  Etana 
lifted  to  heaven  by  an  eagle.  This  story  of  Etana  is  several 
times  represented  in  Babylonian  art  (Seal  Cylinders,  p.  144). 
We  see  him  astride  the  eagle  mounting  to  heaven,  while  the 
two  dogs  which  helped  him  in  herding  his  sheep  gaze  up- 
ward to  watch  his  flight,  just  as  on  a Greek  design  Gany- 
medes’ hunting  dog  looks  up  in  wonder  to  see  him  taken  by 
the  eagle.  I do  not  put  any  weight  on  the  presence  of  the 
dogs  in  both,  and  in  the  same  attitude,  for  the  dog  was 
equally  the  companion  of  the  shepherd  and  the  hunter ; yet 
the  Greek  myth  might  seem  to  have  its  origin  in  that  of 
Babylonia.  The  known  representations  of  the  ascent  of 
Etana  belong  to  an  early  period  of  Babylonian  art,  probably 
from  2500  to  3000  b.c.  ; but  that  the  Ionian  Greek  may 
have  borrowed  the  kernel  of  the  Babylonian  story  is  made 
plausible  by  the  fact  that  it  is  told  on  tablets  from  the 
library  of  Assurbanipal  nearly  2000  years  later.  The  related 


WILLIAM  HAYES  WARD 


251 


story  of  Adapa  and  the  eagle  was  a schoolboy’s  tale  found 
with  the  Tel-el-Amarna  tablets. 

The  very  curious  design  shown  in  the  work  cited,  fig. 
643,  of  a god  or  hero  slaying  a female  monster,  instantly 
suggests  the  exploit  of  Perseus  in  beheading  the  Gorgon 
Medusa.  There  would  be  no  question  of  this  if  it  were 
found  on  a Greek  vase  instead  of  on  a seal  cylinder.  I do 
not  assume  to  judge  with  any  certainty  of  its  age,  for  the 
type  is  too  unusual  to  be  compared  with  objects  of  known 
age ; but  probably  it  is  of  a period  as  early  as  600  to  800 
b.c.  Even  so,  it  is  early  to  be  borrowed  from  Greece,  and  it 
is  not  likely  that  it  was  engraved  under  Greek  influence. 
We  see  the  Gorgon,  if  it  be  she,  with  strangely  divided  feet, 
and  we  remember  that  in  Greek  art  her  limbs  may  end  in 
serpents,  or  she  may  even  be  a centaur.  The  attacking 
figure,  like  Perseus,  has  his  head  turned  back,  as  if  to  escape 
her  stony  gaze ; and  he  carries  a sickle-like  weapon.  It  is 
a question  whether  we  have  here  the  original  of  the  Greek 
myth  of  Perseus,  or  one  of  the  representations  in  Asianic 
art  of  the  Gigantomachia. 

The  myth  of  the  war  against  the  Giants  seems  to  be 
Asianic  rather  than  Greek.  It  is  the  Oriental  Herakles  who 
overthrows  them.  The  very  fact  of  a war  of  the  gods  implies 
that  an  old  order  and  religion  were  being  overturned  by  a 
new,  just  as  the  Greek  god  Zeus  overthrew  Kronos,  who  was 
very  likely  Pelasgian,  and  who  bore  the  apinj,  the  sickle- 
shaped sword,  which  came  from  the  East.  We  seem  to  have 
the  Giants  in  old  Asianic  art,  and  we  are  told  of  one  of  the 
most  ancient  of  them  that  he  came  from  Cilicia.  I have  said 
that  the  scene  previously  mentioned  may  be  meant  to  give 
us  an  Asianic  myth  like  that  of  Perseus  killing  the  Gorgon, 
rather  than  a war  with  the  Giants;  but  there  are  others 
that  cannot  represent  the  Gorgon.  Such  is  fig.  642  of  the 
same  work,  where  two  gods  attack  a giant-like  figure  which 
is  possibly,  but  not  probably,  feminine.  The  attacking 
figures  are  seen  to  be  gods  by  the  bows  tipped  with  circles  on 
their  shoulders,  like  those  of  Adad,  and  they  bear  the  axe 
of  Adad.  In  another  case,  fig.  644,  the  kneeling  giant  figure 
is  distinctly  bearded.  The  attitude  on  the  knee  is  pre- 
cisely the  same  as  that  of  the  supposed  Gorgon ; but  that 


252  ASIANIC  INFLUENCE  IN  GREEK  MYTHOLOGY 


may  have  been  required  by  the  necessity  of  representing 
the  attacked  figure  as  superior  in  size  to  his  conqueror; 
there  was  not  room  for  him  to  stand  upright.  These  seals 
do  not  seem  to  be  Assyrian,  but  belong  to  some  one  of  the 
outlying  provinces.  We  may  well  have  here  an  early 
Asianic  representation  of  the  Gigantomaehia. 

The  discovery  that  the  Hittites  spoke  an  Aryan  language 
and  that  they  ruled  Asia  Minor  and  Syria  and  Phoenicia  from 
a period  long  before  the  Greek  theogony  was  developed,  re- 
quires us  to  reconsider  all  our  old  notions  that  the  Oriental  in- 
fluence which  entered  into  the  Greek  religion  was  Phoenician. 
It  may  have  been  Aryan.  The  influence  of  Phoenicia  has 
been  vastly  exaggerated.  Its  colonies  were  much  later  than 
has  been  supposed,  for  the  great  freebooter  sailors  up  to 
1200  or  1400  b.c.  were  from  the  southern  coasts  of  Asia 
Minor.  It  is  the  influence  of  Asia  Minor  on  Greek  religion 
and  mythology  as  against  Phoenicia,  and  hence  of  an  Aryan 
rather  than  a Semitic  influence,  which  it  has  been  the  pur- 
pose of  this  paper  to  illustrate,  while  showing  that  the  East 
has  a considerably  larger  influence  on  Greek  religion  and 
art  than  has  usually  been  recognized.  Such  deities  as 
Ivronos,  Poseidon,  Ares,  Dionysos,  and  Aphrodite,  and  many 
other  personages  in  Hellenic  mythology,  are  doubtless  wholly 
or  partly  Oriental,  while  others,  like  Zeus,  Apollo,  Athena, 
and  Pan,  are  Hellenic. 

In  this  discussion  I have  recognized  very  little  Egyptian 
influence.  In  early  times  the  Egyptian  influence  must  have 
been  very  slight  in  Greece  or  in  the  neighboring  islands. 
The  seafaring  traders  were  not  Egyptians ; the  Egyptians 
established  no  colonies  nearer  than  the  Hauran  and  the 
Canaanite  coast.  What  Egyptian  influence  entered  in  was 
earlier  through  the  Hauran,  and  later  through  Phoenicia ; 
and  I suspect  that  the  story  of  Medea  offering  to  bring  to 
life  the  old  king  Pelias  after  he  had  been  cut  to  pieces  by 
his  daughters  was  related  to  the  primitive  Egyptian  method 
of  cutting  up  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  We  find  it  in  the  story 
which  tells  how  Osiris  was  cut  in  pieces  by  the  wicked  Set, 
and  the  pieces  brought  together  by  Isis  and  Horus,  and  Osiris 
thus  reconstituted  and  brought  to  his  throne. 

To  the  Egyptians  of  old  the  Greeks  were  mere  children, 


WILLIAM  HAYES  WARD 


253 


late  comers  on  the  stage  of  history.  To  our  modern  vision 
they  are  the  upper  and  nearest  stratum  of  the  pre-Christian 
civilization,  one  that,  as  in  geologic  evolution,  has  developed 
and  improved  the  forms  of  life  that  had  appeared  in  the  strata 
below  it.  The  excavating  spade  has  brought  to  light  these 
unknown  lower  stages  of  racial  culture.  As  the  present 
horse  is  evolved  out  of  the  older  hipparion,  and  that  out  of 
an  earlier  eohippus,  so  the  Greek  gods  and  the  Greek  myths, 
with  all  their  fascinations,  have  risen  out  of  lower  and  coarser 
myths  and  gods  of  older  races  and  times.  All  the  culture 
of  the  various  East  was  gathered  into  the  Greek  soul  and 
there  clarified  and  illuminated  by  the  new  element  of  beauty ; 
so  that  the  new  supreme  civilization,  having  reached  its 
highest  intellectual  perfection,  and  needing  nothing  more 
except  the  spiritual  impulse  to  be  caught  from  David  and 
Jesus,  should  mightily  spread  and  diffuse  itself  over  the  con- 
tinents and  flow  down  all  the  succeeding  ages.  Greece  was 
the  child  of  all  the  cultures  that  had  gone  before.  From  her 
we  inherit  them  all,  and  it  is  for  us  to  search  the  garrets 
and  cellars  for  our  heirlooms.  As  was  said  of  the  celestial 
Jerusalem,  Athens  is  free  and  is  the  mother  of  us  all.  We  all 
trace  our  descent  from  that  little  peninsula,  scarce  noted  on 
the  world’s  map,  but  the  omphalos  of  the  ohcov^ievr),  the 
sacred,  central,  perennial  spring  of  all  succeeding  civiliza- 
tions. 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  AT  NISIBIS 1 


George  Foot  Moore 
Harvard  University 

The  Arian  controversy  had  led  the  church  to  affirm  the 
union  of  God  and  man  in  Christ,  but  the  relation  of  the  divine 
and  human  natures  to  each  other  and  to  the  personality  of 
Christ  was  left  unsettled.  Arius,  like  Lucian  of  Antioch 
before  him,  had  denied  that  Christ  had  a human  soul ; the 
(created)  Logos  assumed  a body  without  a soul  (o-w/^a  on/ru%oz')- 
His  opponent,  Athanasius,  in  the  zeal  of  his  contention  for 
the  divine,  uncreated  Logos,  identical  in  essence  with  the 
Father,  expressed  himself  similarly  : “As  the  Logos  is  from 
eternity  God  and  Son,  so  by  the  assumption  of  flesh  from 
the  Virgin  (the  Mother  of  God,  ©eoro/co?),  he  became  also 
man.”  Marcellus  is  more  explicit : the  Logos  is  the  Ego 
in  the  personality  of  Christ ; the  human  nature  which  is  the 
organ  and  substratum  of  the  Logos  is  impersonal. 

Apollinaris,  on  the  basis  of  the  Platonic  trichotomy, 
taught  that  man  consists  of  a material  body,  an  animal  soul, 
the  principle  of  life,  and  a mind  or  spirit  (vow),  the  principle 
of  wisdom  and  self-determination.  If  then  the  Logos  be 
supposed  to  unite  with  a complete  man,  there  would  be  in 
Christ  two  principles  of  self-determination,  two  free  wills, 
and  consequently  two  persons  between  which  no  true  union 
exists.  Accordingly  he  held  that  in  Christ  the  Logos  fills 
the  place  of  the  rational  soul. 

Against  these  theories  of  a mutilated  human  nature  in 

1 The  statutes  of  the  School  at  Nisibis  were  published  by  I.  Guidi,  Giornale  della 
Societa  Asiatica  Italiana,  4 (1890),  165-195.  German  translation  by  E.  Nestle, 
Zeitschrift  fur  Kirchengeschichte,  18  (1897-1898),  211-229. 

Chabot,  J.-B.,  L’Ecole  de  Nisibe,  son  histoire,  ses  statuts.  Journal  Asiatique, 
Neuvieme  Serie,  8 (1896),  43-93. 

Kihn,  H.,  Theodor  von  Mopsuestia  und  Junilius  Africanus  als  Exegeten.  1880. 

255 


256 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  AT  NISIBIS 


Christ  — Arian  or  Apollinarian  — the  Antiochian  School 
contended  for  a complete  humanity,2  including  free  will,  and 
gave  to  the  historical  Christ  a place  in  theology  from  which 
the  development  of  Christological  dogma  was  step  by  step 
excluding  him.  Diodorus  of  Tarsus  and  Theodore  of  Mop- 
suestia  laid  stress  upon  the  development  of  Jesus,  not  only 
in  body  but  in  mind  and  character  (Luke  ii.  52) ; on  the 
reality  of  his  temptations  ; the  evidence  of  human  weakness, 
fear,  and  suffering  of  mind  and  body ; the  limitations  of  his 
knowledge.  They  held  that  he  was  in  fact  sinless,  but  would 
not  admit  that  it  was  by  the  constitution  of  his  nature  im- 
possible for  him  to  sin.  A human  nature  without  a rational 
sold  and  all  that  that  implies  is  not  really  human  nature. 
The  mode  of  union,  for  which  the  word  crwafaia  is  employed, 
they  admit  to  be  undefinable ; but  they  could  only  conceive 
the  indwelling  of  God  in  Christ  as  analogous  to  his  indwelling 
in  prophets  and  apostles  and  godly  men,  although  in  Christ 
this  indwelling  was  so  complete  as  to  constitute  a unique  be- 
ing. The  divine  and  the  human  in  him  preserved  each  its  full 
integrity  and  distinctive  characteristics,  so  that  the  union  was 
rather  moral  than  physical  or  substantial,  and  was  thus 
progressively  realized,  becoming  more  intimate  with  time, 
and  in  the  end  inseparable.  The  dwelling  of  God  in  the  man 
Jesus  was  neither  tear  ovaiav  nor  tear  ivep^eiav  but  KaTevSoici'av. 
A real  transfer  or  interchange  of  the  predicates  of  the  two 
natures  they  would  not  acknowledge.  It  would  be  per- 
fectly correct,  Theodore  says,  to  speak,  not  merely  of  two 
natures,  but  of  two  persons,  in  Christ,  for  a being  {viroaraa^) 
is  not  perfect  except  as  a person.  Their  position  here  may 
be  better  appreciated  by  contrasting  it  with  a writing  at- 
tributed to  Athanasius  which  speaks  of  “the  one  enfleshed 
nature  of  the  God-Logos.”  Their  emphasis  on  self-deter- 
mination as  the  essence  of  personality  logically  led  the 


2 Other  opponents  of  Apollinaris,  such  as  the  Gregories,  and  Athanasius  himself 
(in  362  a.d.),  also  give  Christ  a rational  soul,  but  — with  a manifest  trend  toward 
monophysite  theories  (and  in  Hilary  with  a docetic  tendency)  — taught  that  the 
humanity  is  penetrated  by  divinity  or  assumed  into  it  in  such  a way  as  to  become 
one  with  it  by  a tvutrt s <pwucf)  (Athanasius).  So  Cyril,  in  the  Nestorian  con- 
troversy, maintained  that  the  Logos  assumed  the  human  nature  into  the  unity  of 
his  being  without  undergoing  change,  so  that  there  was  one  indivisible  subject; 
the  union  was  with  the  human  nature,  not  with  a human  individuality. 


GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE 


257 


Antiochians  to  take  the  Pelagian  side  in  the  Western  con- 
troversy. 

The  doctrine  of  Nestorius  is  essentially  the  same  as  that 
of  Theodore.  When  he  went  to  Constantinople  as  Patriarch, 
in  428,  he  found  notions  of  the  person  of  Christ  current  which 
logically  implied  Apollinarian  premises  and  were  irreconcil- 
able with  his  true  and  full  humanity.  The  conflict  was  pre- 
cipitated by  a sermon  of  Anastasius,  the  private  secretary  of 
Nestorius,  who  had  accompanied  him  from  Antioch,  in  which 
the  preacher  objected  to  the  application  of  the  epithet  ©eoro- 
/C09,  Mother  of  God,  to  the  Virgin:  “She  was  but  a woman. 
It  is  impossible  for  God  to  be  born  of  a human  being.” 
In  the  commotion  which  followed,  Nestorius  warmly  sup- 
ported Anastasius.  “How,”  he  wrote,  “can  Mary  be  ©eo- 
T0/C09  ? Has  God  a mother  ? Then  the  heathen  must  be 
right  who  give  their  gods  mothers,  and  Paul  a liar  who  says 
of  the  divinity  of  Christ  that  he  was  airai-wp  teal  a/jnjTcop. 
Mary  did  not  bear  God,  a creature  bear  the  uncreated,  but 
she  bore  a human  being  who  is  the  organ  of  divinity.”  The 
union  of  the  divine  nature  and  the  human  implied  no  deifi- 
cation of  the  human  nature. 

Cyril  of  Alexandria  became  the  leader  of  the  attack  upon 
Nestorius.  As  a result  of  his  unscrupulous  tactics,  with  the 
support  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  Coelestine,  the  Council  of 
Ephesus  (431  a.d.)  proceeded  not  only  to  condemn  the  teach- 
ing of  Nestorius,  but  to  depose  him.  But  inasmuch  as  the 
teaching  of  Nestorius  was  not  essentially  different  from  that 
of  Diodorus  and  Theodore,  the  condemnation  tacitly  in- 
volved these  venerated  teachers,  and  did  not  readily  find 
acceptance  in  the  Syrian  schools,  where  their  influence  was 
greatest.  Bishop  Rabulas,  a vehement  champion  of  the 
decrees  of  Ephesus,  found  himself  constrained  in  431  or 
432  to  remove  the  teachers  of  the  great  theological  school  at 
Edessa  for  maintaining,  in  accordance  with  the  tradition  of 
the  school,  the  views  of  Theodore ; but  under  his  successor, 
Ibas  (Bishop  in  435),  the  school  was  reopened,  and  the  same 
doctrines  were  again  heard  in  its  lecture-rooms,  until  finally, 
in  489,  at  the  instance  of  Bishop  Cyrus,  the  Emperor  Zeno 
closed  it  altogether  as  a well-spring  of  heresy.  The  ex- 
pulsion of  the  Nestorian  ecclesiastics  by  Rabulas  (431)  drove 


258 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  AT  NISIBIS 


some  of  them  across  the  border  into  Persian  territory, 
among  them  Barsumas,  who  shortly  after  became  Bishop 
of  Nisibis  (435-489).  The  fact  that  the  Nestorians  were 
persecuted  in  the  Roman  Empire  was  sufficient  reason  why 
they  should  be  favored  by  the  Persians ; and  in  the  first  period 
of  this  favor  Nestorian  Christianity  gained  ground  rapidly 
in  Persia,  partly  at  the  expense  of  the  orthodox,  partly  by 
conversions  from  Mazdaism. 

The  closing  of  the  school  of  Edessa  in  489  drove  the  pro- 
fessors and  students  to  Nisibis,  where  they  were  cordially  re- 
ceived by  Barsumas,  and  the  fame  and  influence  of  the  school 
there  dates  from  this  time.  Its  first  head  was  Narses,  who 
had  a great  reputation  as  scholar  and  saint ; his  successors 
worthily  followed  in  his  footsteps,  and  at  the  end  of  the  sixth 
century,  when  the  school  had  reached  its  highest  point,  it 
numbered  about  eight  hundred  students.  Other  schools 
were  established,  at  Seleucia  for  example,  but  none  of  them 
rivalled  Nisibis,  which  was  for  two  centuries  or  more  the 
principal  institution  for  the  training  of  the  clergy  of  Persia 
and  of  the  Nestorian  missionaries  who  carried  Christianity 
to  the  remotest  quarters  of  Asia.  Its  decline  is  coincident 
with  the  general  decay  of  Christianity  in  the  East,  but  only 
in  the  ninth  century  did  it  yield  the  preeminence  to  the 
school  at  Bagdad,  the  capital  of  the  Califate. 

The  statutes  of  the  school  at  Nisibis  at  two  periods  in  its 
history  have  been  preserved ; those  adopted  in  496,  shortly 
after  its  foundation,  and  reaffirmed  in  530,  and  new  regula- 
tions from  the  year  590.  Inasmuch  as  it  is  the  only  insti- 
tution of  the  kind  with  whose  organization  we  are  acquainted, 
these  statutes  are  of  considerable  interest. 

The  school  was  a corporation,  with  various  privileges  and 
a considerable  degree  of  self-government,  though  subject 
ultimately  to  the  authority  of  the  Bishop.  The  Superior 
was  chosen  from  the  professors,  among  whom  the  Professor 
of  Biblical  Exegesis  was  the  first  in  rank.  The  administra- 
tion was  committed  to  a Superintendent  elected  annually 
by  the  convocation  of  the  members  of  the  college,  who  ful- 
filled the  duties  of  a steward,  dean,  and  librarian  ; but  in  im- 
portant matters  he  was  required  to  obtain  the  approval  of  a 
Council  consisting  of  the  Superior  and  the  leading  brethren. 


GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE 


259 


Like  institutions  for  the  training  of  the  clergy  in  the  W est 
until  a comparatively  recent  time,  the  school  at  Nisibis  re- 
sembled a monastic  foundation.  The  students,  and  doubt- 
less the  teachers,  lived  in  the  college,  and  many  of  the  rules 
in  the  statutes  regulate  this  common  life.  By  the  supple- 
mentary statutes,  non-collegiate  students  are  allowed  to  live 
in  private  quarters  in  the  city  when  there  is  not  room  enough 
for  them  in  the  college.  Students  were  admitted  after 
satisfying  the  Superintendent  and  the  Council  of  their  fitness 
and  being  made  acquainted  with  the  statutes  — a kind  of 
matriculation;  the  statutes  were  also  publicly  read  once  a 
year.  The  entrants  promised  to  remain  unmarried ; students 
who  married  during  their  course  of  study  were  expelled. 

The  course  of  theological  study  lasted  three  years,  with 
a vacation  of  three  months,  from  August  to  October.  The 
instruction  was  free,  but  the  students  had  to  provide  for  their 
living  out  of  their  private  means  or  to  earn  it  by  working  in 
vacation.  Those  unable  to  work  might  receive  aid  from  the 
Superintendent  so  far  as  he  had  means  at  his  disposal ; beg- 
ging from  house  to  house  was,  however,  strictly  prohibited. 
In  term  time  students  were  not  allowed  to  undertake  any 
occupation,  lest  it  should  withdraw  them  from  their  studies ; 
even  tutoring  boys  in  the  city  was  forbidden.  During  the 
vacation  they  might  work  at  an  honest  handicraft  in  the  city 
of  Nisibis  itself ; but  if  they  engaged  in  merchandising  of  any 
kind,  it  must  be  outside  the  city,  in  order,  probably,  not  to 
infringe  upon  the  privileges  of  the  tradesmen’s  guilds. 

Study  hours  were  long.  At  cockcrow  the  students  took 
their  places  in  the  study  hall,  and  spent  the  entire  day  copy- 
ing books,  hearing  lectures,  and  learning  to  intone  the  services. 
After  chapel  in  the  evening  they  were  obliged  to  retire  to 
their  rooms.  Talking  about  ordinary  affairs  or  making  a 
disturbance  in  the  schoolroom  was  punished  by  removal. 
Idling  was  visited  with  reproof ; and  if  that  did  not  work 
an  amendment,  relegation  followed.  Professors  who,  with- 
out permission  of  the  President  or  without  urgent  cause  such 
as  illness,  omitted  their  lectures,  had  their  salary  reduced 
and  were  excluded  from  the  Council.  Students  had  to  take 
their  meals  in  common  in  their  quarters ; they  were  forbid- 
den to  eat  in  bakeshops  or  inns,  to  spend  the  night  in  the 


260 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  AT  NISIBIS 


city,  and  to  take  part  in  picnics  or  garden  parties.  The 
sick  were  cared  for  by  their  companions  in  their  rooms  or  in 
an  infirmary  which  was  later  established.  Students  were 
enjoined  to  pay  attention  to  their  personal  appearance; 
when  they  went  into  the  city  they  must  be  decently  and 
modestly  clothed  ; they  must  neither  shave  off  all  their  hair, 
nor  wear  it  in  the  long  frizzed  locks  which  were  affected  by 
the  young  dandies  of  the  time. 

The  order  of  studies  is  not  defined  in  the  statutes.  A 
regulation  which  has  often  been  quoted  in  this  connection 
really  refers  only  to  the  copying  of  the  Scriptures  and 
practice  in  reciting  the  liturgy.  In  the  first  year  students 
copied  the  Book  of  Paul  (that  is,  as  Kihn  plausibly  surmises, 
the  lectures  on  Biblical  Introduction  of  which  we  shall  have 
to  speak  later)  and  the  Pentateuch  ; in  the  second  year,  the 
Psalms  and  the  Prophets  ; in  the  third,  the  New  Testament ; 
and  in  each  year,  also,  one-third  of  the  second  division  of  the 
Nestorian  Old  Testament,  the  so-called  mauthdbe.  If  every 
student  w’as  required  to  copy  the  entire  Bible  during  his 
course  for  his  own  use  — church  copies  would  of  course  be 
made  by  professional  scribes  — the  ministry  of  the  Nestorian 
church  must  have  been  better  provided  than  any  other  at 
that  time. 

About  the  character  of  the  instruction  we  know  a good 
deal  from  other  sources.  The  Nestorians  made  themselves 
the  heirs  of  Antiochian  Biblical  scholarship.  Theodore  of 
Mopsuestia  was  for  them  “the  exegete”;  at  Nisibis  his 
authority  was  indeed  in  later  time  so  great  that  for  a pro- 
fessor to  contradict  his  interpretation  was  sufficient  ground 
for  removal. 

The  first  distinguished  name  in  the  school  of  Antioch  is 
that  of  the  bishop  and  martyr  Lucian  (died  in  311  or  312), 
whose  fame  rests  upon  his  work  as  critic  and  editor  of  the 
text  of  both  Old  and  New  Testaments.  The  great  period 
in  its  history  opens  with  Diodorus  (died  394),  who  long 
taught  at  Antioch  before  he  became  Bishop  of  Tarsus  (378). 
Among  his  hearers  were  Chrysostom  (died  407) ; Theodore 
(died  428)  and  his  brother  Polychronius  ; Isidore  of  Pelusium 
(died  434),  from  whom  we  have  the  best  exposition  of  the 
hermeneutics  of  the  school.  Nestorius  (died  440)  was  a pupil 


GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE 


261 


of  Theodore;  and  Theodore!  (died  457),  a pupil  of  Chrysos- 
tom and  Theodore  — the  catalogue  includes  the  greatest  ex- 
egetes  of  the  Greek  church. 

In  opposition  to  the  Alexandrians,  who  followed  Clement 
and  Origen  and  cultivated  the  allegorical-mystical  method 
of  interpretation  of  which  the  Jewish  theologian  Philo  was  the 
great  exemplar,  depreciating  the  literal  and  historical  sense, 
the  Antiochians  developed  the  principles  of  a rational  exe- 
gesis. It  is  the  business  of  the  interpreter,  in  the  use  of  all 
the  means  which  philology  and  history  put  in  his  hands,  to 
find  out  the  literal  sense  which  is  everywhere  present  in 
Scripture,  the  meaning  of  the  author.  They  recognize  that 
the  language  of  Scripture  is  often  figurative,  but  to  explain 
the  meaning  of  figures  of  speech  is  part  of  the  literal  inter- 
pretation. In  many  persons  and  events  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment they  saw  types  of  the  New  Testament  dispensation 
which  may  be  regarded  as  prophecies  in  fact;3  but  the 
historical  reality  and  significance  of  the  events  is  not  evap- 
orated, as  it  is  by  allegorists.  The  predilection  of  these 
scholars  for  Aristotle,  especially  for  his  logical  and  methodo- 
logical writings,  appears  in  their  hermeneutics,  as  the  influ- 
ence of  his  rational  philosophy  is  dominant  in  their  theology, 
while  the  Alexandrians  Platonize  and  Philonize. 

Theodore  of  Mopsuestia  represents  the  tendencies  of  the 
Antiochian  school  in  their  freest  development.  In  his  exe- 
gesis the  historico-critical  side  is  especially  developed,  and 
in  the  field  of  what  is  called  the  higher  criticism  he  displays 
both  acumen  and  boldness.  He  rejected,  for  example,  the 
titles  of  the  Psalms  as  no  part  of  the  inspired  text  and  as 
historically  worthless,  and  attempted,  in  the  same  way  as 
modern  critics  and  to  some  extent  with  the  same  results, 
to  refer  the  individual  Psalms  on  internal  evidence  to  par  - 
ticular periods  or  circumstances.  Seventeen  Psalms  are  thus 
referred  to  the  Maccabaean  times ; only  nineteen  to  David 
and  his  age.  Direct  predictions  of  Christ  he  admits  in  but 
four  Psalms,  though  many  others  contain  typical  prophecies 
of  the  Messianic  age  or  the  future  consummation.  It  would 
be  interesting  to  compare  Theodore  on  these  points  with 

3 It  has  been  remarked  that  their  attitude  resembles  in  many  ways  that  of  the 
“Federal”  school  of  theologians. 


262 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  AT  NISIBIS 


Calvin,  “the  exegete”  of  the  Reformation,  who  had  in  other 
ways  no  slight  affinity  with  Theodore. 

Theodore’s  views  on  the  canon  are  radical.  He  not  only 
excludes  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  which  Protestants 
call  the  Apocrypha,  along  with  Chronicles,  Ezra,  Nehe- 
miah,  and  Esther,  which  the  Syrian  churches  never  received, 
but  he  did  not  acknowledge  the  inspiration  of  Job,  in  which 
he  saw  a drama  patterned  after  Greek  models.  The  Song 
of  Solomon,  which  he  also  rejected,  was  an  altogether  secular 
poem,  composed  for  Solomon’s  wedding  with  the  Egyptian 
princess,  and  as  a defence  or  excuse  for  his  conduct  in  that 
matter. 

Theodore  recognized  different  kinds  and  degrees  of  in- 
spiration. The  inspiration  of  Proverbs  and  Ecclesiasticus, 
for  example,  was  very  different  from  that  of  the  prophets : 
“ Proverbia  et  Ecclesiastica,  quae  ipse  (sc.  Salomo)  ex  sua 
persona  ad  aliorum  utilitatem  composuit,  cum  prophetiae 
quidem  gratiam  non  accepisset,  prudentiae  vero  gratiam, 
quae  evidenter  altera  est  praeter  illam  secundum  beati 
Pauli  vocem  (1  Cor.  xii.  8).”  Sound  advice  for  getting  on 
in  the  world  is  a very  different  thing  from  the  revelation 
of  the  Kingdom  of  God.  These  propositions  were  con- 
demned by  the  Second  Council  of  Constantinople. 

The  Antiochian  theory  of  prophecy  was  not  only  more 
rational  than  the  Platonic-mantic  doctrine  of  inspiration  in 
the  Alexandrian  Fathers,  but  was  a sounder  interpretation  of 
the  phenomena,  and  more  just  to  the  historical  significance 
of  prophecy  and  its  end  in  the  economy  of  revelation ; and 
among  the  Antiochians  Theodore  gives  the  clearest  and 
sanest  exposition  and  application  of  the  principles.  Every 
prophecy  was  given  in  a particular  historical  situation,  and 
in  its  primary  significance  and  application  has  to  do  with 
the  prophet’s  present  and  the  immediate  future.  But  proph- 
ecy has  also  a remoter  motive  and  end,  to  prepare  the  way 
for  the  Kingdom  of  God,  for  the  coming  of  Christ  and  the 
redemption  of  mankind,  and  beyond  that  for  the  glorious 
fulfilment  in  the  world  to  come.  The  twofold  meaning  of 
prophecy  is  not  properly  a double  sense ; the  Messianic  fulfil- 
ment is  pragmatically  connected  in  the  divine  plan  with  the 
events  of  the  prophet’s  time.  “Thus  the  prophecies  set 


GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE 


263 


forth  conditions  and  events  which  are  organically  related  to 
one  another,  for  the  purpose  of  furthering  the  development 
of  the  Kingdom  of  God  on  earth  and  bringing  to  realization 
the  divine  plan  for  the  redemption  of  all  mankind.”4 

The  historical  interpretation  of  prophecy  is  therefore  the 
first  task  of  the  interpreter ; the  historical  understanding  is 
the  premise  of  the  Messianic  interpretation.  In  his  com- 
mentary on  the  Minor  Prophets  Theodore  applies  these 
principles  with  intelligence  and  sobriety.  In  many  prophe- 
cies which  the  Fathers  in  general  took  as  plain  predictions 
of  Christ,  he  finds  neither  a direct  nor  a typical  Messianic 
sense,  but  refers  them  exclusively  to  events  in  the  history  of 
Israel. 

In  his  views  on  the  mode  of  prophetic  inspiration,  Theo- 
dore is  equally  sane.  There  are  in  both  the  Old  Testament 
and  the  New  instances  of  ecstasy  with  complete  suppression 
of  the  prophet’s  consciousness,  the  impressions  of  sense  and 
the  activities  of  his  intelligence  being  alike  inhibited ; but 
the  ordinary  mode  of  revelation  is  an  inner  illumination, 
the  Holy  Spirit  awaking  in  the  inmost  soul  of  the  prophet 
thoughts  and  images  by  a spiritual  perception,  without 
sensible  forms,  so  that  the  (inner)  “vision”  is  equivalent  to 
the  “word  of  the  Lord,”  which  itself  is  no  audible  commu- 
nication, but  an  inner  experience. 

By  singular  good  fortune,  a course  of  lectures  on  Biblical 
Introduction  by  a professor  in  the  school  at  Nisibis  has  been 
preserved  under  the  name  of  Junilius  Africanus.  The  man- 
ner of  its  transmission  is  interesting.  The  dedicatory  pref- 
ace is  addressed  to  Primasius,  who  was  Bishop  of  Adrume- 
tum  in  North  Africa  in  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century.  The 
writer,  Junilius,  was  not,  as  was  formerly  supposed,  a bishop, 
but  a jurist,  and  an  official  at  the  court  of  the  Emperor 
Justinian,  where  he  filled  the  high  office  of  Quaestor  Sacri 
Palatii.  On  a visit  to  Constantinople,  Primasius  had  asked 
Junilius  whether  there  was  any  one  among  the  Greeks  who 
was  conspicuous  in  Biblical  science.  Junilius  replied  that 
he  had  met  a certain  Paul,  a Persian  (i.e.  a subject  of  the 
Persian  empire),  who  had  been  educated  in  the  school  of  the 


4 Kihn,  p.  97  f. 


264 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  AT  NISIBIS 


Syrians  at  Nisibis,  “where  instruction  in  the  divine  law  is 
systematically  and  regularly  given  by  public  professors,  as 
among  us  grammar  and  rhetoric  are  taught  as  branches  of 
secular  learning.”  Junilius  had  obtained  from  him  a text- 
book on  hermeneutics  which  he  was  accustomed  to  give  in 
the  form  of  lectures  to  his  students  at  the  beginning  of  their 
course  as  an  introduction  to  the  study  of  Scripture.  Of  this 
book  Junilius  sent  Primasius  a Latin  translation  in  catechetic 
form,  under  the  title  Instituta  Regularia  Divinae  Legis. 

Biblical  science,  so  the  treatise  begins,  has  two  branches, 
one  of  which  deals  with  the  form,  the  other  with  the  content, 
of  Scripture  — we  should  say,  Biblical  Criticism  and 
Biblical  Theology.  The  problems  of  Biblical  Criticism  may 
be  grouped  under  five  heads  : 1,  the  class  of  literature  to 
which  a book  belongs  — historical,  prophetic,  gnomic,  di- 
dactic ; 2,  the  authority  of  the  book ; 3,  its  authorship ; 
4,  its  literary  form  — poetry  or  prose ; 5,  its  place  in  the 
economy  of  revelation  — Old  Testament,  New  Testament. 

These  topics  are  taken  in  order.  After  concisely  defining 
history  as  the  narration  of  past  or  contemporary  events, 
the  author  enumerates  the  historical  books  of  both  Testa- 
ments. Besides  the  seventeen  historical  books  which  he 
acknowledges,  “many  include  Chronicles  (two  books),  Job, 
Tobit,  Ezra  (with  Nehemiah),  Judith,  Esther,  two  Books  of 
Maccabees,”  which  the  author  denies  a place  in  the  canon 
because  they  are  not  acknowledged  by  Jews.5  Prophecy  is 
defined  as  the  disclosure  by  divine  inspiration  of  things 
otherwise  unknown,  whether  past,  present,  or  future. 
Among  the  prophetic  Scriptures  the  Psalms  are  reckoned. 
The  prophets  are  arranged,  not  in  the  order  of  the  Greek 
Bible,  but  chronologically,  IJosea,  Isaiah,  Joel,  Amos,  and 
so  on,  ending  with  Malachi.  The  Orientals  have  grave 
doubts  about  the  canonicity  of  the  Revelation  of  John.6 
To  the  gnomic  literature  belong  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon 
and  the  Song  of  Songs.7  In  the  last  category,  didactic. 


5 There  is  some  inaccuracy  about  this  statement.  Jerome,  who  is  quoted,  refers 
only  to  the  Apocrypha.  Perhaps  Junilius  is  at  fault. 

6 This  is  cautiously  worded,  perhaps,  by  Junilius.  A Syrian  would  have  ex- 
pressed himself  more  positively  about  a book  which  his  church  had  never  accepted. 

7 Ecclesiastes  is  not  mentioned  in  either  class. 


GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE 


265 


the  Epistles  of  James,  Second  Peter,  Jude,  Second  and  Third 
John,  are  included  “by  very  many”;  the  author  himself 
does  not  rank  them  as  canonical. 

The  author’s  teaching  on  the  authority  of  Scripture  is 
a corollary  of  his  views  on  the  canon  : of  perfect  authority  are 
the  unquestioned  canonical  books ; of  qualified  authority  the 
books  which  the  author,  with  the  Nestorians  generally,  did 
not  accept,  but  which  some  branches  of  the  church  included 
in  the  canon ; other  books  reputed  inspired  were  of  no  au- 
thority whatever.  The  distinction  between  the  authority 
of  books  universally  accepted  and  those  whose  canonicity 
was  disputed  is  made  also  by  Augustine,  De  Doctrina 
Christiana,  ii.  8,  and  anticipates  the  classification  of  Scripture 
as  canonic  and  deuterocanonic  by  Sixtus  Senensis  and  later 
Catholic  scholars. 

Passing  to  the  second  branch  of  Biblical  science,  Biblical 
Theology,  the  relation  of  the  Old  Testament  to  the  New  in 
the  economy  of  revelation  is  thus  defined : the  purpose  of 
the  Old  Testament  is  to  point  to  the  New  by  figures  and 
foretellings,  of  the  New  to  kindle  men’s  souls  to  the  glory 
of  eternal  blessedness. 

The  law  of  God  is  either  the  law  of  conscience  within  man, 
or  is  disclosed  in  nature,  providence,  and  history,  or  finally, 
is  given  by  God  in  the  form  of  statute.  The  last  is  either 
immutable,  e.g.  the  love  of  God  and  our  neighbor,  or  tran- 
sient, such  as  circumcision  or  the  rules  about  the  gathering 
of  manna.  Some  laws  are  profitable  in  themselves,  some 
necessary  on  account  of  others;  some  are  carnal,  like  the 
Jewish  distinctions  of  clean  and  unclean,  others  spiritual ; 
some  are  peculiar  to  the  Old  Testament,  some  to  the  New, 
others  again,  such  as  Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God,  are 
common  to  both. 

The  subject  of  prediction  and  prophetic  types  is  treated 
at  some  length.  A type  may  be  defined  as  a real  prophecy, 
a prophecy  in  things  or  facts,  in  distinction  from  a prophecy 
in  words ; for  example,  the  resurrection  of  our  Lord  and  his 
abiding  in  heaven  is  a type  of  our  resurrection,  and  points 
to  the  future  habitation  of  the  righteous  in  heaven ; the  ark 
of  Noah  is  a figure  of  the  church,  and  the  like.  Predictions 
are  classified  somewhat  minutely,  especially  the  Messianic 


266 


THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOL  AT  NISIBIS 


prophecies  and  those  referring  to  the  calling  of  the  Gen- 
tiles. 

In  the  last  chapters  the  author  sets  forth  the  familiar  proofs 
of  the  inspiration  of  Scripture  — among  which,  however,  the 
testimonium  internum  Spiritus  Sancti  is  not  included  — and 
the  norm  for  the  understanding  of  Scripture.  The  latter 
may  be  cpioted  as  an  example  of  the  author’s  sound  her- 
meneutic principles : What  is  said  must  be  suitable  to  the 
speaker,  and  must  accord  with  the  reasons  for  which  it  is 
said  ; it  must  be  congruous  with  the  time,  the  place,  the  stage 
of  revelation,  and  the  purpose.  The  purpose  of  the  divine 
teaching  in  Scripture  is  defined  by  our  Lord,  viz.  that  we 
should  love  God  with  all  our  heart  and  soul,  and  our  neighbors 
as  ourselves.  Not  to  love  God  or  our  neighbor  is  therefore 
a repudiation  of  Christian  doctrine  (doctrinae  . . . eor- 
ruptio  est  e contrario  deum  non  amare  vel  proximum) . The 
root  of  evil  is  the  abuse  of  freedom:  “Quia  dum  libero  ar- 
bitrio  a deo  bene  concesso  inordinate  utuntur,  rationales 
creaturae  et  malitiae  et  poenae  causa  sibimet  existerunt.” 
With  Theodore  of  Mopsuestia,  the  notion  of  original  sin  is 
here  rejected. 

The  Nestorian  church  in  the  sixth  century  seems  to  have 
been  in  advance  of  any  other  branch  of  the  church  in  the 
systematic  education  of  its  ministry  by  a three  years’  course 
in  an  institution  exclusively  devoted  to  theological  study. 
In  its  instruction  the  Bible  had  the  central  place ; in  its 
faculty  the  Professor  of  Biblical  Exegesis  held  the  first  rank. 
Sound  principles  of  interpretation  prevailed,  and  critical 
opinions  were  freely  uttered  which  would  not  have  been 
tolerated  in  our  own  seminaries  a generation  ago  — and  in 
many  of  them  are  not  tolerated  now.  In  the  Catholic  church, 
after  the  condemnation  of  the  Nestorians,  the  Biblical 
science  as  well  as  the  theology  of  the  Antiochian  school  was 
under  a cloud ; here  also  the  Alexandrians  triumphed. 
The  critical  views  of  Theodore  were  condemned,  along  with 
others,  by  the  Second  Council  of  Constantinople  (533,  The 
Three  Chapters) ; his  works  were  zealously  sought  out  and 
destroyed.  Only  among  the  Nestorians.  beyond  the  bounds 
of  the  Empire,  were  his  writings  cherished,  only  there  did 
his  rational  method  survive. 


GEORGE  FOOT  MOORE 


267 


Through  Junilius’  translation,  Paul’s  compendious  and 
lucid  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  the  Scriptures  had,  how- 
ever, considerable  influence  in  the  West.  Cassiodorus, 
whose  services  as  a statesman  in  his  own  time  are  not  more 
conspicuous  than  his  efforts  to  keep  the  lamps  of  sacred  and 
profane  learning  aflame  in  the  night  of  barbarism  that  was 
settling  upon  Italy,  in  his  De  Institutione  Divinarum 
Literarum,  which  in  many  ways  resembles  Junilius’  In- 
stituta  Regularia,  names  Junilius  among  the  authors  of 
treatises  on  Introduction,  and  in  the  institution  which  he 
founded  at  Viviers,  “an  asylum  of  literature  and  the  liberal 
arts,”  may  well  have  had  the  great  school  at  Nisibis  in  mind. 
Through  the  Middle  Ages,  the  compend  of  Junilius  along 
with  that  of  Cassiodorus  was  used  as  a text-book.  Junilius 
was  supposed  to  be  an  orthodox  bishop,  and  the  very  un- 
orthodox teaching  of  the  book  does  not  seem  to  have  dis- 
turbed anybody.  The  authority  of  Augustine,  however, 
who  in  his  De  Doctrina  Christiana  laid  down  a method  of 
interpretation  not  essentially  different  from  Origen’s,  neu- 
tralized the  influence  of  the  sounder  principles  of  the  Anti- 
ochian scholar  as  well  as  the  critical  tradition  represented 
by  Jerome. 


THE  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  THE 
ORIGINAL  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


Charles  C.  Torre y 
Yale  University 

The  question  of  the  original  language  (or  languages)  of 
the  Synoptic  Gospels,  or  rather,  of  the  documentary  sources 
which  underlie  them,  is  just  now  being  earnestly  discussed. 
This  is  the  question  which  perhaps  occupies  the  central 
point  of  interest  in  the  present  study  of  the  New  Testament 
text.  Recent  investigations,  or  essays  bearing  on  the  sub- 
ject, fall  naturally  into  two  main  groups : those  which  ap- 
proach the  matter  from  the  Semitic  side,  and  those  which 
come  to  it  from  the  side  of  a fresh  study  of  Hellenistic  Greek. 

On  the  one  hand,  the  progress  of  Semitic  studies  has  at 
last  made  it  seem  possible  to  attack  these  most  difficult 
problems  with  good  hope  of  partial  success.  Owing  to  the 
accumulation  of  important  new  material,  and  to  the  help 
given  by  more  thorough  linguistic  investigation,  we  have 
been  gaining  in  recent  years  a greater  familiarity  with  the 
Aramaic  idioms  of  Palestine,  as  well  as  with  classical  Hebrew. 
Much  that  was  uncertain  only  a short  time  ago  is  now  firm 
standing  ground.  The  important  equipment  of  the  present- 
day  investigator  from  this  side,  however,  does  not  so  much 
consist  in  the  more  exact  knowledge  of  the  Semitic  languages, 
and  especially  of  Aramaic,  as  it  does  in  a clearer  understand- 
ing of  the  literary  problems  involved,  and  of  the  whole 
historical  situation  in  which  the  first  Christian  writings 
appear.  It  is  not  because  of  advance  along  any  one  line, 
but  along  many  lines  of  investigation,  that  important  scraps 
of  evidence,  often  too  minute  to  seem  worthy  of  serious 
notice,  are  now  readily  recognized  and  used,  which  a genera- 
tion ago  could  hardly  have  been  either  observed  or  inter- 
preted correctly.  It  is,  therefore,  a fact  of  considerable 
significance  that  an  increasing  number  of  Semitic  scholars 

269 


270  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


are  holding  more  or  less  positively  the  theory  of  written 
Semitic  sources  underlying  at  least  a considerable  part  of 
the  Synoptic  Gospels. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  have  recently  gained  a very  much 
increased  knowledge  of  the  Hellenistic  Greek  which  was 
spoken  and  written  at  about  the  beginning  of  the  Christian 
era.  Thanks  especially  to  the  great  finds  of  papyri  which 
have  been  made  in  Egypt,  a flood  of  light  has  been  thrown 
upon  the  noivr),  both  in  its  various  dialects  and  in  the 
characteristics  which  it  exhibits  in  all  parts  of  the  modern 
Greek-speaking  world.  The  result,  for  the  study  of  the  New 
Testament  in  particular,  has  been  a most  important  one. 
Much  of  what  had  long  been  characterized  as  ‘New  Testa- 
ment Greek’  or  ‘Biblical  Greek’  is  now  found  to  have  been 
in  common  use  elsewhere.  Many  peculiarities  of  vocabu- 
lary and  syntax  which  had  been  supposed  to  be  due  to  the 
influence  of  the  Greek  Old  Testament  or  to  that  of  Hebrew 
or  Aramaic  dialects  spoken  in  Palestine,  are  now  shown  to 
have  existed  in  regions  and  under  circumstances  where  no 
such  influence  could  have  been  at  work,  and  we  are  led  to 
conclude  that  these  idioms  belong  to  the  inner  development 
of  the  vulgar  Greek  itself. 

So  far  as  the  question  of  the  original  language  of  the  Sy- 
noptic Gospels  is  concerned,  however,  the  situation  has  not 
suffered  any  such  change  as  some  appear  to  believe.  The 
most  of  those  students  of  the  New  Testament  who  have  dis- 
cussed the  phenomena  brought  to  light  by  the  widening  of 
the  horizon  of  late  Greek  have  failed  to  make  any  careful 
distinction  between  the  Greek  of  Paul  and  that  of  Matthew, 
or  between  that  in  which  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  is 
written  and  that  of  the  Apocalypse.  Many  who  had  been 
favorably  disposed  towards  the  theory  of  Semitic  sources 
in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  have  abandoned  that  view,  and 
express  their  belief  that  “New  Testament  Greek’’  possesses 
no  peculiarities  not  shared  by  the  profane  Greek  in  ordinary 
use  at  that  time.  There  are  thus,  at  present,  two  rival 
camps,  the  one  insisting  on  the  evidences  of  translation 
which  appear  in  the  first  three  Gospels,  or  elsewhere  in  the 
New  Testament,  and  the  other  denying  the  existence  of 
such  evidence.  The  great  majority  of  New  Testament 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


271 


scholars,  it  may  be  added,  seem  to  belong  to  neither  one  of 
these  two  parties,  but  content  themselves  with  saying  that 
while  it  is  quite  possible  that  Aramaic  or  Hebrew  documents 
may  have  formed  the  basis  of  our  Gospels,  or  of  a portion  of 
the  Acts,  or  of  the  Apocalypse,  the  fact  cannot  be  demon- 
strated at  any  point  with  absolute  certainty.  The  question 
of  translation,  they  say,  though  interesting,  is  purely  aca- 
demic, and  so  far  as  assured  practical  results  are  concerned 
it  is  of  little  or  no  use  to  try  to  go  behind  our  Greek  sources 
in  the  oldest  form  of  them  which  we  can  reconstruct  from 
evidence  of  manuscripts  and  versions. 

Some  very  industrious  students  of  the  whole  problem 
have  concluded,  in  view  of  the  new  evidence,  that  the  hypoth- 
esis of  Aramaic  documents  rendered  into  Greek  is  not  only 
unnecessary  but  untenable.  Deissmann’s  Bibelstudien  was 
influential  in  this  direction,  though  it  was  not  directly 
concerned  with  the  main  question,  but  merely  contributed 
material.  Wernle,  in  his  Synoptische  Frage  (1899),  puts 
it  down  as  a “still  unshaken  fact”  (eine  immer  noch  uner- 
schiitterte  Thatsache)  that  our  Gospels  arid  their  written 
sources  were  originally  Greek.  There  has  been,  however, 
no  thoroughgoing  discussion  of  the  matter  from  either  side ; 
indeed,  it  may  fairly  be  said  that  thorough  treatment  of  the 
material  in  hand  can  hardly  be  expected  at  present.  There 
has  been  but  one  noteworthy  presentation  of  the  case  from 
the  Semitic  side,  namely  that  of  Wellhausen,  in  his  Einlei- 
tung  in  die  drei  ersten  Evangelien  (first  ed.,  1905),  supple- 
mented by  the  notes  accompanying  his  translation  of  the 
Synoptic  Gospels.  Wellhausen’s  investigation,  it  is  need- 
less to  say,  is  masterly  so  far  as  it  goes ; it  might,  however, 
have  been  carried  much  further  and  made  more  convincing. 
I shall  often  have  occasion  to  refer  to  it  in  the  sequel. 

One  thing  that  has  made,  and  is  still  making,  a good  deal 
of  confusion  in  the  discussion  of  these  questions  is  a careless 
use  of  terms.  The  comprehensive  phrase  ‘New  Testament 
Greek’  is  still  used  very  much  too  loosely,  as  though  all  of 
the  documents  which  make  up  this  collection  of  writings  were 
written  in  one  and  the  same  approximately  homogeneous 
idiom. 

To  take  one  or  two  examples  : Professor  J.  H.  Moulton  in  The 


272  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

Expositor,  1904,  p.  68,  after  speaking  of  the  exploded  theory 
that  “ the  New  Testament  writers”  wrote  in  a Greek  which 
derived  its  peculiarities  chiefly  from  the  Greek  Old  Testa- 
ment and  from  the  influence  of  the  vernacular  Aramaic,  goes 
on  to  say:  “And  now  all  this  has  vanished,  for  Biblical 
Greek  is  isolated  no  more.  Great  collections  of  Egyptian 
papyri  published  with  amazing  rapidity  by  the  busy  ex- 
plorers who  have  restored  to  us  so  many  lost  literary  treas- 
ures during  the  last  decade  have  shown  us  that  the  farmer 
of  the  Fayum  spoke  a Greek  essentially  identical  with  that 
of  the  Evangelists.  The  most  convincing  ‘Hebraisms’ 
appear  in  the  private  letters  of  men  who  could  never  have 
been  in  contact  with  Semitic  influences.”  And  on  p.  67  : 
“The  disappearance  of  that  word  ‘Hebraic’  from  our  defini- 
tions marks  a revolution  in  the  conception  of  the  language  in 
which  the  New  Testament  is  written.”  And,  again,  on 
p.  74  : “But  the  papyri  have  finally  disposed  of  the  assump- 
tion that  the  New  Testament  was  written  in  any  other  Greek 
than  the  language  of  the  common  people  throughout  the 
Greek-speaking  lands.”  1 

But  what  is  “Biblical  Greek”?  And  what  is  the  “lan- 
guage in  which  the  New  Testament  is  written”?  If  the 
question  of  possible  Semitic  sources  for  parts  of  the  New 
Testament  is  to  be  discussed  seriously,  this  is  a very  bad  way 
to  begin.  So  far  as  Semitic  coloring  is  concerned,  there  are 
great  differences  which  need  to  be  taken  into  account  at  the 
outset.  The  Synoptic  Gospels  stand  at  a considerable  dis- 
tance from  the  Gospel  of  John  in  this  regard,  in  spite  of  their 
close  literary  relationship,  while  between  the  Synoptic 
Gospels  and  the  writings  of  Paul,  for  example,  there  is  a 
great  gulf  fixed.  A layman  after  reading  such  statements 
as  those  which  I have  just  quoted  would  be  likely  to  suppose 
that  the  evidence  of  the  papyri  has  already  settled,  or 
nearly  settled,  the  question  of  ‘ translation-Greek  ’ in  the 
New  Testament ; that  it  has  shown,  at  all  events,  that  the 
hypothesis  of  such  translation  is  not  anywhere  absolutely 
necessary.  But  as  a matter  of  fact,  the  evidence  furnished 
by  the  papyri  and  by  inscriptions  has  hardly  touched  the 


Repeated  in  his  Grammar  of  New  Testament  Greek  (1906),  p.  18  f. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


273 


real  question  at  all.  In  the  case  of  most  of  the  documents 
of  the  New  Testament,  the  question  of  translation  from  a 
supposed  Semitic  original  could  never  arise,  among  properly 
equipped  scholars . It  is  only  in  the  case  of  a few  of  the  writ  ings 
that  the  probability  has  been  shown,  and  the  line  needs  now 
to  be  drawn  more  sharply  than  ever  between  these  writings 
and  their  fellows. 

As  Professor  Moulton  says  (in  this  same  series  of  articles, 
passim),  it  has  been  shown  that  a good  many  words  and 
idioms  which  had  been  regarded  as  glaring  Hebraisms,  such 
as  ISov  (used  like  Heb.  HSH,  etc.),  ava  pecrov,  and  evuunov 
(like  Heb.  ’’JB1?,  etc.)  are  occasionally  met  with  in  docu- 
ments which  are  certainly  not  translations  from  Semitic 
originals.  This  is  not  surprising,  and  in  all  probability  still 
other  idioms  which  have  been  quite  generally  regarded  as 
peculiar  to  the  “translation”  language  will  be  found  in 
original  Greek  compositions  of  this  late  period. 

But  these  facts  have  very  little  bearing,  after  all,  on  the 
question  of  the  original  language  of  the  Gospel  of  Matthew, 
or  of  Mark  or  Luke.  It  is  a matter  of  very  little  consequence, 
for  the  settling  of  this  important  question,  whether  eh  as 
an  ordinal  number,  or  iv  with  the  instrumental  meaning, 
can  be  found  in  the  Ptolemaic  documents,  or  whether  iy&eTo 
is  used  with  an  infinitive  in  profane  Greek.  Even  if  every 
so-called  ‘Semitic  idiom’  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  were 
found,  occurring  sporadically,  in  the  kolvt)  (a  quite  impos- 
sible supposition,  by  the  way),  the  real  argument  for  trans- 
lation would  not  be  weakened.  The  demonstration  of  such 
occasional  occurrences  does  not  touch  the  real  difference 
between  vulgar  Greek  and  translation-Greek  ; for  the  latter, 
it  must  be  insisted,  does  have  its  definite  and  recognizable 
peculiarities.  To  illustrate,  from  the  idioms  which  were 
just  mentioned : if  any  extensive  papyrus  fragment  should 
come  to  light  in  which  even  these  few  idioms  were  all  used, 
not  sporadically  but  constantly,  and  imbedded  in  a dialect 
whose  general  characteristics  were  at  least  as  obviously 
Semitic  as  Greek,  then  the  presumption  would  of  necessity 
be  this,  that  the  document  had  originally  been  composed  in  a 
Semitic  tongue.  Only  strong  and  unequivocal  evidence  to 
the  contrary  could  render  any  other  hypothesis  tenable. 


274  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

To  return  to  one  or  two  of  Moulton’s  statements.  “The 
farmer  of  the  Fayum  spoke  a Greek  essentially  identical 
with  that  of  the  Evangelists.”  This  gives  an  altogether 
erroneous  impression.  It  may  well  be  true  that  the  Greek 
spoken  by  Egyptian  peasants  very  closely  resembled  that 
spoken  by  the  compilers  of  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke ; but 
that  it  even  remotely  resembled  the  language  in  which  they 
wrote  their  Gospels  is  not  true  at  all.  No  evidence  which  has 
thus  far  come  to  light  tends  to  show  that  such  Greek  as  that 
of  the  Gospels  was  ever  spoken  in  any  part  of  the  world. 
The  idiom  of  the  Synoptic  Gospels,  like  that  of  the  Apoca- 
lypse, is  half  Semitic  throughout.  One  characteristic  Semitic 
construction  follows  another,  in  verse  after  verse  and  on  page 
after  page.  The  student  of  Aramaic  and  Hebrew  is  reminded 
of  these  languages,  not  occasionally,  but  all  the  time,  and  this 
is  the  important  fact.  Moulton  says  {ibidem),  in  speaking 
of  the  KOLvri,  as  exhibited  in  the  papyri:  “The  most  con- 
vincing Hebraisms  appear  in  the  private  letters  of  men  who 
could  never  have  been  in  contact  with  Semitic  influences.” 
But  what  is  a “convincing  Hebraism”?  There  is  really 
no  such  thing,  so  long  as  the  discussion  is  concerned  with 
isolated  phenomena.  It  is  only  when  the  idiom  is  one  link 
in  a long  chain  that  it  becomes  convincing;  then,  indeed, 
it  may  have  an  absolutely  compelling  force.  The  argument 
is  cumulative ; we  are  concerned  with  the  continuous  im- 
pression made  by  a great  mass  of  material,  rather  than  with 
a number  of  striking  instances  — though  these  are  to  be  had 
in  abundance  when  they  are  sought  for.  The  fact  is,  we 
have  in  this  well-marked  group  of  New  Testament  writings 
a series  of  compositions  which  are  Semitic  in  structure, 
although  clothed  in  a Greek  dress,  and  the  just  effect  of 
recent  discoveries  is  to  make  this  peculiarity  seem  all  the 
more  striking.  In  all  the  mass  of  papyri  and  inscriptions 
nothing  similar  has  come  to  light,  and  we  are  therefore  more 
than  ever  in  need  of  an  adequate  explanation.  Can,  then, 
this  Semitic-Greek  represent  a spoken  dialect  ? 

It  is  true  that  uneducated  people  of  the  lower  class,  when 
they  are  forced  by  circumstances  to  speak  a foreign  tongue, 
sometimes  create  an  uncouth  patois,  consisting  of  a more  or 
less  ludicrous  mixture  of  the  two  dialects,  which  they  then 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


275 


use  in  their  more  careless  intercourse  with  one  another.  It 
is  possible  (though  we  have  no  evidence  of  it)  that  some  such 
Greek-Aramaic  jargon,  to  which  we  might  compare  our 
‘Pennsylvania  Dutch,’  was  used  for  a time  in  some  part  of 
Palestine.  But  such  jargons  as  these  have  obviously 
nothing  to  do  with  the  language  of  the  New  Testament 
writings  under  discussion.  No  one  of  these  writings  is  the 
work  of  an  unlettered  man,  no  one  of  them  is  the  work  of 
an  unskilled  author.  In  each  case,  we  know  ourselves  to 
be  dealing  with  a man  of  culture,  and  of  literary  resources ; 
one  who  was  possessed  of  an  extensive  vocabulary,  and  knew 
how  to  render  shades  of  thought.  When  such  men  use  a 
mongrel  dialect,  they  do  so  from  deliberate  choice.  Here, 
the  reason  for  the  choice  is  obvious,  it  is  the  translator’s 
conception  of  his  task.  No  other  explanation  thus  far 
proposed  accounts  for  all  the  facts.  This  will  perhaps 
become  more  evident  in  the  course  of  the  discussion  which 
here  follows.  If  the  documents  which  underlie  the  Synoptic 
Gospels  were  composed  in  vulgar  Greek,  why  should  this 
Greek  be  anything  else  than  the  KOLvrj  ? It  is  true  that  we 
are  not  very  well  acquainted  with  the  popular  speech,  yet 
our  knowledge  of  it  has  been  much  increased,  until  we  are  at 
least  able  to  assert  with  all  emphasis  that  it  is  by  no  means 
the  language  of  the  Gospels.  The  real  effect  of  the  recent 
discoveries  in  the  field  of  late  Greek  is,  then,  to  isolate  the 
‘translation’  idiom  of  the  Gospels  from  the  most  of  the 
remainder  of  the  New  Testament  even  more  completely 
than  it  had  been  isolated  before.  The  contrast  in  which  it 
stands  to  the  popular  language  which  was  ordinarily  written 
and  spoken  at  that  day  is  becoming  more  and  more  evident. 
Its  true  affinities,  on  the  other  hand,  are  to  be  found  in  the 
books  of  the  Greek  Old  Testament.  It  will  be  in  place,  then, 
to  take  some  general  notice  of  the  language  of  the  old  Greek 
renderings  from  the  Semitic. 


The  translation-Greek  of  our  Biblical  books  is  a literary 
product  whose  peculiarities  deserve  more  attention  than 
they  have  hitherto  received.  The  subject  is  not  one  that 
can  be  treated  satisfactorily  in  small  compass,  yet  it  is  pos- 


276  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


sible  to  set  forth  briefly  some  general  truths  with  sufficient 
clearness  to  aid  in  the  present  investigation. 

It  is  true,  on  the  one  hand,  that  there  are  varieties  of 
translation-Greek.  The  ancient  translators  did  conceive 
their  tasks  in  ways  differing  somewhat  according  to  the 
character  of  the  work  which  they  were  rendering,  and  also 
according  to  the  period  and  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
lived.  In  the  Old  Testament,  where  we  have  the  necessary 
materials  for  criticising  the  Greek  versions,  we  can  observe 
this  fact  to  good  advantage.  We  have  in  our  Greek  Bible 
a number  of  different  kinds  of  faithful  translation.  Leaving 
out  of  account  such  minor  literary  habits  as  could  be  taken 
for  granted,  it  can  be  shown  in  the  case  of  not  a few  of  the 
Biblical  books  that  the  individual  interpreter  had  his  own 
peculiar  principles  of  procedure  in  rendering  the  Semitic 
text  which  he  had  before  him.  Anything  like  a free  para- 
phrase, to  be  sure,  we  shall  rarely  find,  and  that  only  in  occa- 
sional passages ; but  the  ideas  of  what  constitutes  a true 
reproduction  are  seen  to  vary  considerably.  Nevertheless, 
many  Old  Testament  scholars  have  failed  to  recognize  the 
fact  that  these  renderings  are  not  all  alike  ; and  most  of  them 
still  continue  to  operate  with  ‘the  LXX’  (meaning  the  text 
printed  by  Swete  or  Tischendorf)  as  though  it  were  homo- 
geneous, and  to  use  it  in  Kings,  or  Ezekiel,  or  Koheleth,  in 
exactly  the  same  way  in  which  they  had  used  it  in  the  Penta- 
teuch. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  important  particulars  in 
which  the  translations  in  our  Bible,  including  both  the  Old 
Testament  and  the  New  Testament,  are  essentially  alike. 
It  is  with  these  points  of  essential  resemblance  that  I have 
especially  to  do.  As  has  already  been  said  in  the  case  of  the 
Old  Testament,  the  Biblical  translations  are  without  excep- 
tion close  renderings,  so  far  as  we  are  now  able  to  judge. 
Speaking  broadly,  we  can  safely  depend  on  every  one  of 
them  to  follow  its  original  faithfully,  through  thick  and  thin. 
The  occasional  local  exceptions,  in  more  freely  rendered 
clauses  or  passages,  do  not  affect  the  general  rule.  The 
resulting  idiom,  viewed  in  passages  sufficiently  extended 
to  have  a recognizable  character,  is  never  Greek,  but  always 
a mixture ; at  its  best  inelegant,  and  at  its  worst  monstrous. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


277 


The  reasons  for  this  are  worth  seeking.  Why  should  the 
Alexandrine  translators  and  their  fellows  have  produced 
this  jargon,  instead  of  an  idiom  more  closely  resembling  their 
own  spoken  or  written  Greek  ? The  question  is  most  com- 
monly answered  by  saying  that  they  were  attempting  to 
render  sacred  writings,  every  word  of  which  had  its  super- 
human value ; hence  the  anxious  adhesion  to  the  original. 
This  fact  did  always  exercise  a very  considerable  influence, 
and  was  doubtless  a chief  cause  of  many  painfully  literal 
renderings,  especially  in  passages  containing  something 
oracular  or  otherwise  portentous.  Generally  speaking, 
the  later  Biblical  translations  were  more  closely  word-for- 
word  than  the  earlier,  because  of  the  increasing  reverence 
for  the  inspired  writings ; this  rule  had  its  exceptions, 
however.  A very  frequent  cause  of  the  conflation  of  Biblical 
texts  was  the  wish  to  include,  side  by  side  with  the  old 
rendering,  a new  and  more  exact  one.  But  the  sanctity  of 
the  originals  is  by  no  means  the  only  reason,  nor  even  the 
principal  reason,  for  the  extreme  literalness  of  these  early 
versions.  Contemporary  translations  of  writings  which 
were  not  regarded  as  sacred  show  in  general  the  very  same 
characteristics  as  do  the  renderings  of  the  canonical  books. 
When  the  grandson  of  Bar  Sira,  for  example,  undertook  to 
turn  his  grandfather’s  Hebrew  proverbs  into  Greek,  in  order  to 
give  them  the  currency  which  they  deserved,  he  produced  the 
same  barbarous  mixture  — incredibly  awkward  now  and  then 
— which  we  find  in  the  other  Greek  versions  from  the  Hebrew. 

Another  explanation  of  these  extremely  close  renderings 
in  the  Greek  Old  Testament  emphasizes  the  fact  that  Hebrew 
was  at  that  time  going  out  of  use  as  a spoken  language. 
The  uncouth  idiom  of  the  ‘Septuagint’  was  the  result  of 
“the  effort  of  Greek-speaking  men  to  translate  the  already 
obsolete  and  imperfectly  understood  Hebrew”  (Moulton, 
Grammar,  p.  13).  This  is  true  to  some  extent,  namely  in 
single  words  and  occasional  passages,  which  had  passed 
beyond  the  interpreter’s  ken,  just  as  certain  words  and 
phrases  in  Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  and  even  more  recent 
writers  have  ceased  to  be  understood.  Words  have  their 
day,  and  drop  out  of  sight ; local  allusions,  or  the  current 
phrases  of  a certain  period,  soon  lose  their  meaning,  often 


278  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


beyond  recovery.  Doubtless  not  a few  things  in  our  Hebrew 
Bible  which  would  have  been  perfectly  transparent  to  any 
Israelite  in  the  time  of  Jeroboam  II,  or  of  Hezekiah,  could 
have  been  understood  by  no  one  in  the  time  of  Haggai  and 
Zechariah.  Some  authors,  moreover,  express  themselves 
so  obscurely  that  their  writings  are  full  of  riddles,  difficult 
enough  for  contemporaries,  and  often  quite  insoluble  for 
subsequent  generations.  The  extent  to  which  these  old 
Hebrew  texts  have  been  changed  from  their  original  form, 
in  the  course  of  time,  must  also  be  borne  in  mind.  If  the 
prophet  liosea  could  have  been  confronted  with  his  own 
book  in  the  shape  in  which  it  lay  before  its  Greek  translators, 
the  attempt  to  read  and  understand  it  offhand  would  cer- 
tainly have  staggered  him.  It  is  quite  true,  then,  that 
many  queer  specimens  of  the  translator’s  jargon  show  that 
the  original  was  not  understood ; this  is  very  far,  however, 
from  explaining  translation-Greek  as  a whole.  The  Hebrew 
language  was  not  by  any  means  unfamiliar,  or  imperfectly 
understood,  at  the  time  when  these  first  versions  were  made. 
The  author  of  First  Maccabees  wrote  classical  Hebrew  as 
easily  and  naturally  as  educated  Swiss  write  High  German, 
and  so  doubtless  did  a multitude  of  his  contemporaries,  both 
in  Palestine  and  in  the  Dispersion.  The  Alexandrine  trans- 
lators knew  Hebrew  hardly  less  intimately  than  they  knew 
their  own  mother-tongue ; we  are  far  more  likely  to  under- 
estimate than  to  overestimate  their  equipment  in  this  regard. 
Furthermore,  the  versions  made  from  the  Aramaic,  while 
it  wTas  a living  language  and  perfectly  well  understood,  have 
precisely  the  same  quality  and  the  same  peculiarities  as 
those  made  from  the  Hebrew. 

The  true  source  of  ‘translation-Greek’  lies  deeper  than 
either  of  these  two  reasons  for  occasional  close  rendering. 
It  lies  in  the  translator's  conception  of  his  task.  In  what 
way  should  he  mirror  in  one  language  what  had  been  written 
in  another  ? In  all  times  and  places  it  has  been  the  first 
aim  of  the  ordinary  translator  to  render  words  rather  than 
ideas.  Even  where  the  version  is  comparatively  ‘free,’ 
the  idiom  of  the  original  is  retained.  Obviously,  this  saves 
time  and  trouble,  and  avoids  a responsibility  which  would 
generally  be  unwelcome.  It  would  be  a mistake  to  suppose, 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


279 


however,  that  indolence  was  to  any  considerable  extent 
responsible  for  this  method  of  translating.  These  Jews 
of  the  Dispersion  were  willing  to  give  any  amount  of  time 
and  labor  to  their  task,  and  wished  to  do  it  as  well  as  it  could 
be  done.  But  they  could  not  have  felt  it  to  be  incumbent 
on  them,  or  even  desirable,  to  render  into  idiomatic  Greek. 
The  original  was  not  conceived  in  Greek,  but  in  Hebrew'  or 
Aramaic,  and  what  they  were  required  to  do  was  to  present 
the  same  document  in  a Greek  dress;  this  was  the  only  way 
in  which  they  could  make  it  accessible  to  Greek  readers,  and 
at  the  same  time  let  it  speak  for  itself.  This  was  the  typical 
attitude  of  the  ancient  translator,  irrespective  of  the  nature 
of  the  text  to  be  rendered.2  In  modern  times  and  among 
men  of  letters  the  custom  of  literal  rendering  no  longer 
prevails ; but  even  modern  translators  who  are  imperfectly 
trained  resort  to  the  old  method.  The  ‘schoolboy  transla- 
tion’ is  often  referred  to,  in  speaking  of  Old  Testament 
Greek,  and  the  comparison  is  an  apt  one.  Especially  in 
the  more  obscure  parts  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  translator 
must  very  often  have  felt  that  his  task  was  too  hard  for  him. 
What  he  then  did  was  to  render  the  difficult,  and  often  mani- 
festly corrupt,  text  with  desperate  faithfulness.  In  dealing 
with  such  passages  the  maxim  was,  and  in  the  nature  of  the 
case  had  to  be,  that  of  the  schoolboy  : Try  to  put  down  some- 
thing which  shall  correspond  closely  to  each  word  of  the 
original  — and  never  mind  the  sense. 


2 The  two  letters  prefixed  to  Second  Maccabees  afford  an  interesting  illustration 
here,  if  my  opinion  regarding  them  is  correct.  They  were  certainly  composed  in  a 
Semitic  tongue,  probably  Aramaic,  and  (if  I am  not  mistaken)  were  translated  by 
the  author  of  the  book.  He  was  one  who  wrote  Greek  with  unusual  fluency  and 
elegance,  and  was  conscious  of  his  ability ; but  the  language  of  the  two  letters  is, 
as  usual,  the  jargon  of  the  translator,  as  far  removed  as  possible  from  the  untram- 
melled idiom  of  the  rest  of  the  book.  (See  my  article,  “Second  Maccabees,”  in  the 
Encyclopaedia  Biblica.)  This  case  can  hardly  fail  to  remind  us  of  the  beginning  of 
the  Gospel  of  Luke,  which  (on  any  theory  of  the  documents  contained  in  it)  pre- 
sents a striking  parallel.  The  prologue  is  written  in  elegant  Greek ; then,  without 
warning,  verse  5 begins  with  the  uncouth  mixture,  a Semitic  narrative  merely  trans- 
ferred (and  that  not  always  successfully)  into  Greek  words.  Whether  the  author 
of  the  Third  Gospel  translated  this  himself,  or  found  it  already  translated,  makes 
little  difference  with  the  instructive  fact,  that  a translation  was  not  to  be  treated 
as  literature,  but  stood  in  a class  by  itself.  That  the  author  of  the  Gospel  did  not 
compose  this  narrative  in  chaps.  1 and  2 himself,  as  many  have  supposed,  I shall 
show  presently. 


280  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


It  is  always  to  be  borne  in  mind,  to  be  sure,  that  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  translation,  where  there  is  no  uncertainty 
in  the  text,  but  only  a smoothly  running  narrative  or  dis- 
course, the  translator  allowed  himself  all  sorts  of  small 
liberties.  Greek  constructions  and  the  Greek  order  of 
words  are  freely  substituted  for  the  original  Semitic  — 
though  almost  never  consistently.  Sometimes,  indeed,  the 
extent  to  which  this  occasional  freedom  of  rendering  is 
carried  seems  to  us  both  unnecessary  and  mistaken.  It 
must  be  acknowledged  that  the  translator’s  own  literary 
taste  often  seems  to  compel  him  to  write  idiomatic  Greek 
in  sentence  after  sentence,  in  spite  of  the  respect  for  the  orig- 
inal evidenced  by  his  habit  in  the  main.  The  most  of  the 
renderings  which  constitute  the  Greek  Bible,  both  Old 
Testament  and  New,  are  admirable  performances  from  their 
own  point  of  view,  and  in  no  inconsiderable  part  they  are 
admirable  from  any  and  every  point  of  view,  even  that  of 
modern  literary  art. 

It  is  with  the  defects  of  these  versions,  however,  and 
especially  with  their  slavishly  literal  character  on  the  whole, 
that  I am  just  now  concerned.  Reduce  the  ancient  inter- 
preter really  to  straits,  and  his  performance  — adding  word 
to  word  in  a meaningless  succession  — is  frequently  nothing 
short  of  ludicrous. 

By  way  of  illustration,  I subjoin  a few  modern  specimens 
of  translation.  The  first  two  are  attempts  at  ‘sight-render- 
ing’ recently  made  by  schoolboys  who  presumably  had 
studied  for  several  years  the  languages  which  they  were 
here  required  to  turn  into  English.  Each  one  is  a serious 
effort,  made  in  the  endeavor  to  pass  an  examination ; and 
in  each  case  I have  printed  the  paper  exactly  as  it  was  sub- 
mitted, without  making  any  alteration  whatever. 

The  first  ‘translation’  (from  Ovid)  is  evidently  the  work 
of  one  who  had  gained  some  familiarity  with  the  Latin 
vocabulary,  but  did  not  regard  it  as  any  part  of  his  duty  to 
write  what  should  make  good  sense. 

Postquam,  Saturno  tenebrosa  in  Tartara  misso. 

Sub  love  mundus  erat:  subiit  argentea  proles, 

Auro  deterior,  fulvo  pretiosior  aere. 

Iupiter  antiqui  contraxit  tempora  veris: 


CHARLES  C.  TORRE Y 


281 


Perque  kiemes,  aestusque,  et  inaequales  autumnos, 

Et  breve  ver,  spatiis  exegit  quatuor  annum. 

Turn  priraum  siccis  aer  fervoribus  ustus 
Canduit:  et  ventis  glacies  adstricta  pependit. 

The  translation : 

“Afterwards,  when  Saturn  was  sent  into  darkest  Tartar,  he  lay 
buried  under  Jove.  His  offspring  emerged  at  an  early  age,  weakened 
by  the  gold,  and  made  prettier  by  the  yellow  bronze.  Jupiter 
dragged  the  season  of  former  spring ; and  he  lived  for  a period  of  four 
years,  through  the  winters,  the  summers,  the  extra  long  autumns, 
and  the  short  spring.  Then,  accustomed  to  the  cold  of  some  cen- 
turies he  lived  on,  and  hung  exposed  to  the  icy  winds.” 

The  second  example  illustrates  especially  that  variety  of 
rendering  in  which  the  translator  (still  feeling  under  no  obli- 
gation to  make  good  sense)  is  repeatedly  misled  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a word,  mistaking  it  for  another  which  more  or  less 
closely  resembles  it. 

Je  tombai  hier  par  kasard  sur  un  mauvais  livre  d’un  nomme  Dennis ; 
car  il  y a aussi  de  mechants  Scrivains  parmi  les  Anglais.  Cet  auteur, 
dans  une  petite  relation  d’un  sejour  de  quinze  jours  qu’il  ajait  en  France, 
s’ anise  de  vouloir  faire  le  caradere  de  la  nation  qu’il  a eu  si  bien  le  temps 
de  connaitre. 

The  translation : 

“I  fell  heir,  through  chance,  under  an  evil  life  of  one  named  Dennis, 
for  there  were  besides  some  empty  eryings  by  the  English.  This 
author,  in  a little  adventure  of  a sojourn  of  fifteen  days  which  he  had 
made  in  France,  advised  himself  that  he  wished  to  make  the  character 
of  the  nation  which  he  had  seen  so  well  the  time  of  his  birth.” 

These  two  specimens  are  extreme  cases,  and  it  is  for  that 
very  reason  that  I have  chosen  them.  They  serve  all  the 
better  to  illustrate  the  attitude  of  the  primitive  translator ; 
it  is  not  his  business  to  think,  but  only  to  reproduce.  I have 
no  intention  of  implying  that  the  truly  scholarly  versions 
made  by  the  Alexandrine  interpreters  are  to  be  classed,  even 
for  a moment,  with  such  ignorant  and  awkward  perform- 
ances as  these ; still,  the  two  examples  will  not  seem  irrele- 
vant to  any  one  who  has  carefully  studied  the  Greek  Old 
Testament  in  the  light  of  a thorough  knowledge  of  Hebrew. 


282  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


There  is  no  sort  of  blunder  in  these  two  passages  which  can- 
not be  paralleled  over  and  over  again  in  those  numerous 
parts  of  the  Greek  Bible  which  were  hastily  or  unskilfully 
rendered.  Even  the  instances  in  which  the  translator  is 
misled  by  the  resemblance,  in  appearance  or  sound,  of  an 
English  word  to  the  French  or  Latin  with  which  he  is  strug- 
gling ( pretiosior  = ‘ prettier  ’ ; ustus  = ‘ used  ’ ; liier  = ‘ heir  ’ ; 
livre  — Tife,’  etc.)  will  remind  the  experienced  student  of 
the  Old  Testament  of  similar  cases  — in  spite  of  the  wide 
gulf  between  Greek  and  Hebrew. 

More  instructive  than  the  passages  in  which  the  translator 
does  not  pretend  to  write  anything  comprehensible  are  those 
in  which  he  merely  follows  his  original  so  closely  as  to  pro- 
duce a hideous  variety  of  Greek,  sufficiently  intelligible, 
perhaps,  to  those  who  were  likely  to  read  it.  Striking  ex- 
amples of  this  sort  are  to  be  seen  on  almost  every  page  of 
our  ‘Septuagint’  texts.  To  give  a few  illustrations:  Num. 
ix.  10,  ” Avdpeo7ro<;  avdpoy7ro<;  o?  iav  <yevi)T<u  d/cd6apTO<i  iirl  "^rvxV 
avdpdoirov,  i)  iv  6866  pcucpav  vpJiv  rj  iv  Tat?  yet 'eat?  vpcbv,  /cal 
TroirjaeL  to  7ra<rya  Kvpiw.z  Every  reader  of  the  Hebrew 
Bible,  even  in  the  latest  Hellenistic  period,  knew  per- 
fectly well  that  the  W’K  of  the  Pentateuehal  laws 

meant  ‘ whoever  ’ ; yet  the  interpreter  chose  to  imitate  the 
phrase  in  this  surprisingly  awkward  manner,  and  so  on 
throughout  the  verse.  Or  take  1 Chron.  xv.  21  as  rendered 
in  the  Syrian  (L)  recension  : /cat  MaTrafha?  . . . /cat  ’0£Ya? 
iv  /civvpavi  nepl  rrjs  6<y8or)<;  tov  iviax^craL.  Ol’  Is.  xliv.  10,  11a: 
ot  TrXdcrcrovTes  0eov  /cat  yXih^oi /tc?,  7 rat/Te?  dvcotyeXr),  /cal  7rdvr e? 
ode v iyevovro  i^ppavOr/crav  /cal  K(ocf)ol  cnro  avQpdnvwv  • avvax^V' 
Tcoaav  TrdvTes  The  grandson  of  Bar  Sira  understood 

his  grandfather’s  proverbs,  and  turned  them  into  Greek  with 
“much  watchfulness  and  skill,”  as  he  informs  us;  he  cer- 
tainly had  no  need  to  cling  anxiously  to  the  letter  of  the 
original ; yet  his  work  of  rendering  is  exactly  like  that  of 
all  the  others,  and  abounds  in  such  performances  as  those 
just  cited. 

When  we  come  to  the  criteria  by  which  translation-Greek 
is  to  be  recognized,  we  are  on  somewhat  difficult  ground. 

3 This  example  of  translator’s  Greek  is  given  by  Conybeare  and  Stock  in  their 
Selections  from  the  Septuagint,  p.  23. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


283 


Long  Semitic  documents,  dealing  with  familiar  themes, 
written  in  simple  prose  and  containing  no  very  difficult 
passages,  may  be  reproduced  faithfully,  clause  by  clause,  in 
a Greek  which  — though  plainly  not  classical  — sounds 
quite  like  an  original  composition.  How  shall  the  fact  of 
translation  be  demonstrated  ? The  most  obvious  kind  of 
evidence,  and  the  only  kind  of  which  use  is  made  by  the  great 
majority  of  investigators,  is  that  which  is  found  in  occasional 
phrases  and  constructions  which  “sound  Semitic  rather  than 
Greek.”  Evidence  of  this  sort  is  vastly  important,  yet  its 
precariousness  can  hardly  be  asserted  too  strongly.  So  far 
as  it  is  a matter  of  a few  isolated  cases,  it  gives  very  uncer- 
tain footing,  and  is  not  infrequently  deceptive  where  the 
examples  seem  most  striking.  We  are  not  very  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  Koivr),  after  all,  and  are  constantly  liable 
to  surprise  when  idioms  supposed  to  be  only  Semitic  suddenly 
turn  up  in  the  vulgar  speech  of  the  Hellenistic  period.  It 
now  and  then  happens,  too,  that  some  factor  quite  over- 
looked by  us  has  influenced  the  form  of  words.4 

Another  criterion  to  which  appeal  must  occasionally  be 
made  is  that  of  mistranslation.  Some  word,  phrase,  or 
sentence  sounds  very  improbable  in  the  context  where  it 
stands ; we  reduce  the  Greek  to  its  equivalent  in  Aramaic  or 
Hebrew,  and  seem  to  discover  that  the  translator  had  mis- 
understood his  original.  Arguing  from  the  double  meaning 
of  certain  words,  the  ambiguity  of  clause-division,  the  prob- 
ability of  slight  corruption  in  the  text,  and  the  like,  we  restore 
what  seems  to  us  to  be  the  sense  intended  by  the  original 
author.  Evidence  of  this  variety  is  immensely  valuable  in 
the  rare  cases  where  it  is  convincing ; there  is  no  other  inter- 
nal proof  of  translation,  indeed,  which  is  so  immediately 
cogent.  But  the  need  of  caution  is  greater  here  than  any- 
where else.  The  more  experience  one  has  in  this  field,  the 
more  plainly  he  sees  the  constant  danger  of  blundering.  Our 

4 Every  list  of  examples  of  this  nature  is  sure  to  contain  its  slips.  Thus  Well- 
hausen,  Einleitung,  ed.  1,  p.  19,  in  the  course  of  his  endeavor  to  find  traces  of  Ara- 
maic circumstantial  clauses  in  the  Greek  of  the  Gospels,  says:  “Ein  weiteres 
zweifelhaftes  Beispiel  ist  Lc.  19.  44  koX  to.  t£kvol  a ov  iv  <rol,  welehe  Worte 
jedenfalls  nicht  Object  zu  iScuptovaiv  sein  kbnnen.”  Nevertheless,  the  words  are 
the  object  of  the  verb,  as  appears  from  comparison  of  Nah.  iii.  10;  Hos.  x.  15, 
xiv.  1. 


284  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


ignorance  of  grammar,  vocabulary,  literary  usage,  customs, 
and  history  is  necessarily  colossal,  especially  in  the  case  of 
the  Semitic  peoples ; and  even  the  most  careful  modern 
exegete  is  likely  to  mistake  the  meaning  of  the  ancient  author 
with  whom  he  is  dealing.  Hence  it  happens  in  nine  cases 
out  of  ten  that  renewed  study  of  the  ‘mistranslations’ 
which  we  have  discovered  shows  us  either  that  there  was  no 
translation  at  all,  or  else  that  it  was  quite  correct. 

By  far  the  most  important  criterion  for  determining  the 
fact  of  translation  is  the  continual  'presence,  in  texts  of  con- 
siderable extent,  of  a Semitic  idiom  underlying  the  Greek. 
The  demonstration  of  this  nature  is  the  most  satisfactory 
of  all,  generally  speaking,  but  it  should  be  added  that  no 
other  kind  of  evidence  requires  for  its  use  more  painstaking 
or  a longer  preparation.  Even  a novice  in  the  linguistic 
field  may  recognize  Semitic  idioms  here  and  there ; mistakes 
in  translation  may  be  pointed  out  by  insufficiently  equipped 
men  ; but  only  veterans,  long  trained  in  both  Greek  and 
Semitic,  and  especially  in  the  latter,  can  say  with  justified 
confidence,  after  studying  a composite  work  : These  chapters 
were  composed  in  Semitic,  those  in  Greek ; this  was  orig- 
inally Hebrew,  that  was  Aramaic.  Indeed,  where  the  char- 
acter of  the  composition  favors  the  use  of  short  and  simple 
sentences,  making  it  possible  for  Greek  and  Semite  to  express 
themselves  in  much  the  same  way,  in  page  after  page,  it 
may  be  well-nigh  impossible  to  tell  what  was  the  tongue  in 
which  the  work  was  originally  written.  In  any  case,  the 
argument  is  cumulative,  indications  that  would  be  quite 
insignificant  if  taken  by  themselves  becoming  highly  impor- 
tant as  links  in  a long  chain. 

I illustrate  again  by  a modern  instance,  taking  at  random 
a passage  from  a printed  translation  of  a too  familiar  type. 

Then,  far  from  the  waves,  is  seen  Trinacrian  /Etna ; and  from  a 
distance  we  hear  a loud  growling  of  the  ocean,  the  beaten  rocks,  and 
the  murmurs  of  breakers  on  the  coast : the  deep  leaps  up,  and  sands  are 
mingled  with  the  tide.  And,  says  father  Anchises,  doubtless  this  is  the 
famed  Charybdis ; these  shelves,  these  hideous  rocks  Helenus  fore- 
told. Rescue  us,  my  friends,  and  with  equal  ardour  rise  on  your  oars. 
They  do  no  otherwise  than  bidden ; and  first  Palinurus  whirled  about 
the  creaking  prow  to  the  left  waters.  The  whole  crew,  with  oars  and  sails, 
bore  to  the  left.  We  mount  up  to  heaven  on  the  arched  gulf,  and  down 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


285 


again  we  settle  to  the  shades  below,  the  wave  having  retired.  Thrice 
the  rocks  bellowed  amid  their  hollow  caverns ; thrice  we  saw  the  foam 
dashed  up,  and  the  stars  drenched  with  its  dewy  moisture.  . . . 
The  port  itself  is  ample,  and  undisturbed  by  the  access  of  the  winds ; 
but,  near  it,  ditna  thunders  with  horrible  ruins,  and  sometimes 
sends  forth  to  the  skies  a black  cloud,  ascending  in  a pitchy  whirlwind 
of  smoke  and  glowing  embers ; throws  up  balls  of  flame,  and  kisses  the 
stars : sometimes,  belching,  hurls  forth  rocks  and  the  shattered 
bowels  of  the  mountain,  and  with  a rumbling  noise  wreaths  aloft  the 
molten  rocks,  and  boils  up  from  its  lowest  bottom.  . . . Lying  that 
night  under  covert  of  the  woods,  we  suffer  from  those  hideous  prodi- 
gies ; nor  see  what  cause  produced  the  sound.  For  neither  was  there 
the  light  of  the  stars,  nor  was  the  sky  enlightened  by  the  starry  firma- 
ment ; but  gloom  was  over  the  dusky  sky,  and  a night  of  extreme  dark- 
ness muffled  up  the  moon  in  clouds. 

Any  classical  scholar  who  knows  something  of  the  history 
of  ‘translation-English  ’ in  our  academic  life  would  recog- 
nize this  at  once,  whether  he  had  ever  read  Vergil  or  not. 
No  amount  of  reasoning,  or  demonstration  of  the  occurrence 
of  these  same  idioms,  one  by  one,  in  free  compositions  in 
the  English  language,  could  lead  him  to  doubt  his  first  con- 
clusion. This  is  not  an  English  that  was  ever  spoken,  or 
freely  composed,  by  any  man  or  class  of  men.  It  is  Latin 
in  more  or  less  awkward  English  garb,  and  a product  of  a 
very  common  type  of  translation.  The  evidence  is  persist- 
ent, cropping  out  again  and  again  until  its  aggregate  amount 
is  quite  decisive.  It  would,  of  course,  be  possible  for  one 
who  was  completely  master  of  both  Latin  and  English  to 
imitate  this  translator’s  jargon  by  a tour  cle  force,  whether 
as  a joke  or  as  an  academic  exercise.  But  it  is  needless 
to  say  that  such  an  imitation  could  never  rise  above  the  level 
of  an  ugly  curiosum. 

It  is  the  constant  reiteration  of  indications  perhaps  unim- 
portant when  taken  separately,  but  compelling  in  the 
aggregate,  that  confronts  us  in  such  passages  as  Luke  i.  8 ff. : 
JLyevero  iv  rais  r/pipavs  'H pcpBov  flacnXe'ay;  Try?’  lovBaias  tepeu?  t t? 
ovoparL  Zaftaptas  i%  ifr/pepias  ’ A/3td , teal  yi >vr/  avrep  i/c  tmv  6vya- 
repcov  ’A apd>v,  Kal  to  ovopa  ai/Tr/s  ’EXeicrd/3eT.  r/crav  Be  Si/ccuoi, 
apforepoi  evavjLov  rov  deov,  7 ropeuopevoi  iv  Travail  reus  eWoXcu? 
Kal  BiKaubpaaiv  rov  Kvpiov  apepirroL.  Kal  ovk  rjv  avTols  tckvov , 
KadoTL  rjv  ’EXetcra/Ser  crrelpa,  Kal  cipfoTepoi  rrpo ftefirjKOTes  iv  t als 
rjpepavi  avroiv  r/crav.  ’RyeveTO  Be  iv  tu>  lepareveiv  avrov  iv  t r/ 


286  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 
Tcl^ei  Tr)<s  ecpijpepias  avTOV  evavri  t ov  0eov  Kara  to  edos  rrj<?  lepa- 

Teta?  e\aye  too  Ovp^iaacu  k. r.i.  The  Semitic  idioms  continue 
to  appear  throughout  the  whole  course  of  this  introductory 
narrative  contained  in  the  first  two  chapters  of  the  Gospel. 
Also  in  the  poetical  passages  which  lie  imbedded  in  the  nar- 
rative and  are  quite  inseparable  from  it  occur  such  idioms  as 
eVoi^cre  /cpaVo?  iv  fdpa^iovi  avrov  (i.  51),  vrrep7j<f)dvov<;  Siavoi'a 
tcap8(a<;  av tu>v  (ibid.),  too  Sovvai  rjp.lv  a^)o/3<w?  etc  yet/oo?  i^dpotv 
pvcrdevTas  Xarpeveiv  aincp  (i.  74  f.),  hid  aTrXdy^va  eXeou?  deov 
rjpwv  (i.  78),  07T&1?  av  cnroKaXvipOcbaiv  i/c  7roXX(bv  /capSiwv  SiaXo- 
yiupoi  (ii.  35).  This  is  not  the  kolvt)  of  Palestine.  It  is  not 
“the  dialect  of  the  market  place  of  Alexandria.”  It  is  not 
even  “the  colloquial  Greek  of  men  whose  original  language 
and  ways  of  thinking  were  Semitic,  and  whose  expression 
was  influenced  at  every  turn  by  the  phraseology  of  the  Old 
Testament.”  5 It  is  translation-Greek , and  nothing  else.  I 
do  not  believe  that  any  ancient  writer,  Jewish  or  Christian, 
ever  produced  Greek  of  this  variety  by  any  natural  literary 
process.  It  could  not  have  been  produced  unconsciously, 
that  is  certain.  Could  anyone  write  unconsciously  even 
the  smoothest  of  the  translation-English  which  I have  just 
quoted  ? 

It  has  been  a favorite  theory  in  recent  years  that  the  com- 
piler of  the  Third  Gospel  deliberately  imitated  the  language 
of  the  Greek  Old  Testament,  in  order  to  give  his  narrative 
the  flavor  of  the  sacred  books.  But  the  motive  for  such  a 
grotesque  performance  on  his  part  is  by  no  means  apparent. 
The  jargon  of  the  Alexandrine  translators  had  no  exclusive 
sanctity  of  its  own.  Some  revered  writings,  such  as  the 
Wisdom  of  Solomon,  were  composed  in  excellent  Greek. 
Josephus,  who  knew  the  Greek  Bible  as  well  as  any  man, 
composed  his  history  in  a language  free  from  Hebraisms. 
There  could  be  no  purpose  of  archaizing,  for  the  Greek  of 
the  ‘Seventy’  was  not  archaic,  it  was  merely  the  deformed 
Greek  of  the  translator.  Luke,  and  his  friend  Theophilus, 
and  every  educated  man  of  the  time,  knew  the  difference 
perfectly  well. 

But  even  Wellhausen  thinks  of  the  imitation  of  the  trans- 
lation lingo,  by  an  evangelist  who  was  composing  freely  in 

6 Conybeare  and  Stock,  Selections  from  the  Septuagint,  p.  21. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


287 


Greek,  as  a plausible  thing.  He  says  in  the  first  edition  of 
his  Einleitung,  p.  34  : “Es  giebt  ein  Judengriechisch,  welches 
unter  dera  Einfluss  der  Septuaginta  steht  und  sich  kennzeieh- 
net  durch  Aufnahme  von  allerhand  Biblicismen.  Markus 
ist  ziemlich  frei  davon,  nicht  aber  Matthaus  und  Lukas. 
Sie  betreffen  vorzugsweise  das  Lexicon  oder  die  Phraseologie, 
doch  auch  den  Stil.  Die  Hymnen  im  ersten  Kapitel  des 
Lukas  sind  beinah  ganz  aus  Reminiscenzen  zusammengesetzt 
und  konnen  sehr  wol  griechisch  concipirt  sein,  wenn- 
gleich  das  nicht  notwendig  ist.”  In  the  second  edition 
(1911)  he  omits  the  first  sentence  of  this  quotation,  and  also 
the  last  clause  of  its  closing  sentence,  the  remainder  of  which 
he  transposes  to  a place  (page  8,  top)  where  it  directly  follows 
some  examples  of  this  supposed  imitation  on  Luke’s  part. 
That  is,  Wellhausen  believes  the  first  two  chapters  of  Luke 
to  have  been  composed  in  Greek. 

But  I do  not  think  that  these  views  can  be  maintained. 
The  possibility  of  a “Judengriechisch”  modelled  upon  the 
Old  Testament  versions  may  perhaps  be  admitted;  though 
I feel  sure  of  this,  at  least,  that  no  specimen  of  the  kind  has 
thus  far  come  to  light.  Whenever  Luke  gives  us  a succession 
of  Hebraisms,  he  is  either  himself  translating  or  else  incor- 
porating the  translation  of  another.  As  for  the  hymns  in 
the  first  chapters  of  Luke,  not  even  a very  ingenious  deceiver 
could  have  concocted  them,  unless  in  this  one  way : by 
writing  them  — or  at  least  conceiving  them  — in  a Semitic 
tongue  and  then  rendering  them  into  Greek.  When  Luke 
writes  cVon/cre  k paras  iv  fipaxiovt  avrov  (a  phrase  not  found 
in  the  Greek  Old  Testament),  he  or  some  one  else  is  ren- 
dering Sti  nW  or  (less  probably)  its  Aramaic  equiv- 

alent. It  is  a translation  of  the  painfully  literal  kind, 
rendering  word  by  word  without  regard  to  the  meaning. 
The  same  thing  is  true  all  through  the  two  chapters;  I 
shall  return  to  them  presently,  bringing  decisive  proof  of  the 
underlying  Semitic  original. 

The  general  conclusion  as  to  the  documents  of  the  New 
Testament  whose  Greek  has  a distinct  and  continuous 
Semitic  tinge  is  this,  that  they  were  translated ; no  other 
conclusion  is  justified  by  the  evidence  which  is  at  present 
available.  The  hypothesis  of  a writer  using  the  feoivrf  and 


288  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

writing  under  the  strong  influence  of  the  Greek  Old  Testa- 
ment falls  far  short  of  accounting  for  the  facts.  No  theory 
of  imitation  is  tenable ; unconscious  imitation  could  not 
possibly  produce  anything  like  what  we  have,  and  the  delib- 
ate  effort  could  serve  no  end  worthy  of  an  author  who  was 
writing  seriously  and  with  high  purpose.  It  has  been  cus- 
tomary to  appeal  to  certain  books  of  the  Apocrypha  and 
Pseudepigrapha,  and  to  the  Apocalypse  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, as  examples  of  writings  composed  in  Semitic-sounding 
Greek  ; but  the  fact  is  that  all  of  the  books  thus  cited  as  wit- 
nesses were  originally  written  in  Hebrew  or  Aramaic,  and  our 
Greek  versions  are  merely  translations  more  or  less  literal.6 


The  problem  of  translation  in  the  Third  Gospel  is  perhaps 
more  interesting,  and  certainly  more  complicated,  than 
anywhere  else  in  the  New  Testament.  We  know  that  the 
Gospel  was  originally  compiled  in  Greek ; but  the  most  of  its 
sources  were  at  least  ultimately  Semitic,  and  there  is  good 
reason  to  believe  that  a very  considerable  and  important 
part  of  the  material  actually  lay  before  the  compiler  (Luke) 
in  the  form  of  Aramaic  and  Hebrew  documents.  Did  Luke 
use  the  ‘Teachings  of  Jesus’  (the  source  called  Q)  in  Ara- 
maic ? Was  the  Greek  version  of  this  document  which  is 
incorporated  in  his  Gospel  made  by  himself,  or  by  some  one 
else  ? Did  he  consult  the  Aramaic  Gospel  of  Mark  ? How 
are  the  translations  in  the  Third  Gospel  related  — if  they 
are  related  at  all  — to  the  renderings  of  the  corresponding 
documents  in  the  Gospel  of  Matthew  ? What  is  the  evi- 
dence of  Semitic  sources  used  by  Luke  alone  ? These  are 
the  principal  questions  of  this  nature  which  need  to  be 
answered. 

The  author  of  the  Gospel  says,  in  his  brief  but  very  impor- 
tant prologue,  that  ‘many’  before  his  time  had  undertaken 
to  write  narratives  dealing  with  the  life  and  wTork  of  Jesus. 
He  also  distinctly  implies,  in  his  claim  of  thoroughness  and 
accuracy  in  his  own  work,  that  he  had  examined  this  older 

6 Professor  Moulton  says,  to  be  sure,  in  the  Expositor,  1904,  p.  71 : “Even  the 
Greek  of  the  Apocalypse  itself  does  not  seem  to  owe  any  of  its  blunders  to  Hebra- 
ism.” I admit  that  the  Semitic  original  of  the  Apocalypse  has  not  yet  been  satis- 
factorily demonstrated,  though  it  is  certainly  capable  of  demonstration. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


289 


material  and  used  such  of  it  as  he  found  valuable : ’E ireLh-q- 
7 rep  7roWol  eireyeipi]Gav  avara^aadai  SLijyrjaLv  . . eSofje  tcapol 
Traprj/coXovdrjKOTi  avcodev  iraaiv  a/cpifioos  tcade^rj^  aoi  ypa-^rcu,  . . . 
iva  ernyvais  Trepl  5>v  KaTp^rjOr]^  \6ycov  ttjv  aa^aXetav.  Examina- 
tion of  the  Gospel  shows  that  its  author  did  indeed  search 
widely  and  successfully.  In  working  through  the  two  stand- 
ard collections,  that  is,  substantially,  the  ‘Vita’  written  by 
Mark  and  the  ‘Teachings’  now  designated  by  the  letter  Q, 
there  is  plenty  of  evidence  to  show  that  he  sifted  his  material 
and  went  back  to  the  oldest  sources  available.  In  not  a few 
instances  it  can  be  shown  that  his  divergence  from  the  form 
of  words  given  by  Matthew  is  the  result  of  another  rendering 
of  an  Aramaic  original.  He  also  found  and  incorporated 
new  material,  not  used  by  Mark  or  Matthew,  and  here  again 
the  question  of  translation  conies  forward  prominently. 
In  Palestine,  the  one  and  only  land  of  native  tradition  as  to 
the  life  of  Jesus,  it  was  most  natural  that  at  least  a consider- 
able portion  of  the  earliest  documents  dealing  with  his  life 
and  work  should  be  composed  and  circulated  in  the  Aramaic 
language,  which  was  the  vernacular  in  all  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, and  had  long  been  used  for  literary  purposes.  An 
Aramaic  literature  of  considerable  extent  did  grow  up  about 
Jesus  and  the  apostles,  as  we  know  with  certainty.  The 
original  Mark  was  composed  in  Aramaic,  and  that  was  also 
the  language  in  which  the  ‘Teachings’  (Q)  were  written. 
The  Semitic  source  underlying  the  first  half  of  Acts  was 
probably  Aramaic.  But  among  the  ‘many  gospels’  and 
briefer  compositions  which  formed  the  earliest  group  of 
writings  dealing  with  the  Prophet  of  Nazareth  and  his  teach- 
ings it  is  altogether  likely  that  some  few  would  have  been 
written  in  Hebrew.  Especially  after  the  doctrine  of  Jesus 
the  Messiah  had  been  well  developed,  and  the  conviction  that 
the  lives  of  Jesus  and  John  the  Baptist  were  the  true  and 
necessary  completion  of  the  Old  Testament  history  had 
taken  its  mighty  hold  on  the  Jewish  Christians,  the  sacred 
tongue,  Hebrew,  could  hardly  fail  to  be  used  in  some  liter- 
ary work  designed  to  bridge  the  apparent  gap  between  the 
two  great  periods.  It  is  probable  a priori  that  to  any  col- 
lector of  traditions,  discourses,  and  other  historic  material 
these  Semitic  documents  would  appeal  as  especially  ‘au- 


290  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

then  tic.’  No  other  man  of  whom  we  have  knowledge  would 
have  been  so  likely  as  the  author  of  the  Third  Gospel  to 
search  out  the  remains  of  this  literature  and  make  use  of 
what  he  could  find.  Inasmuch  as  the  greater  part  of  it 
(at  least)  must  have  been  published  only  a few  decades 
before  the  time  when  he  wrote,  it  would  be  strange  indeed 
if  the  most  of  the  documents  were  not  still  to  be  had,  in 
one  form  or  another ; the  only  question  could  be  whether 
he  was  able  to  get  at  them.  Luke’s  attitude  in  this  matter, 
the  measure  of  his  success  in  finding  ‘authentic’  material, 
the  form  in  which  the  documents  came  into  his  hands,  and  his 
mode  of  procedure  in  dealing  with  them,  are  all  questions  of 
far-reaching  importance  for  the  study  of  the  Synoptic  Gospels. 

The  best  starting  point  is  afforded  by  the  ‘Gospel  of  the 
Infancy,’  comprising  the  first  two  chapters  of  Luke.  Here 
is  a narrative  which  was  certainly  not  invented  by  Luke 
himself.  It  is  not  based  on  oral  tradition,  in  fact  it  has  none 
of  the  characteristics  of  such  tradition,  but  is  from  beginning 
to  end  the  conception  of  a litterateur  of  skill  and  taste,  who 
wrote  in  the  spirit  of  the  Old  Testament  narratives.  The 
style,  which  is  homogeneous  throughout,  is  as  far  removed 
from  that  of  the  preceding  prologue  as  the  east  is  from  the 
west.  The  Greek  is  distinctly  of  the  ‘ translation  ’ variety, 
altogether  like  that  of  the  Greek  books  of  Samuel,  or  1 Mac- 
cabees, or  Judith.  It  is  not  a matter  of  occasional  or  fre- 
quent Hebraisms,  the  style  is  one  continuous  Hebraism.  I 
have  already  touched  upon  the  language  of  these  two  chap- 
ters, in  the  preceding  general  discussion,  reserving  for  this 
place  the  proof  that  the  narrative  was  composed  in  a Semitic 
tongue. 

Luke  i.  39  reads  as  follows  : avaaTacra  8e  M apiap,  iv  Tat? 
rjpepcus  rauTat?  ijropevdrj  et?  rrjv  dpeivrjv  /act a cnrovhr) ? et?  7toXlv 
TouSa,  40  teal  elcrrj\dev  et?  t'ov  olkov  Zayaptoy,  k. t.S.  “And  Mary 
arose  in  those  days  and  went  into  the  hill  country  with 
haste,  to  . . .,  and  entered  into  the  house  of  Zachariah,” 
etc.  The  phrase  et?  ttoXlv  ’IouSa  has  been  an  unsolved  riddle. 
It  cannot  mean  ‘to  a city  of  Judah  (or  Judea),’  which  would 
be  et?  ttoXlv  rt}?  ’IoaSata?,  as  in  verse  c26  of  this  chapter.  The 
only  permissible  rendering  is  ‘to  the  city  (named)  Judah,' 
but  there  was  no  city  of  that  name.  No  commentator  has 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


291 


been  able  to  suggest  any  plausible  explanation  of  the  phrase. 
The  Greek  text  shows  no  variation,  and  there  is  no  reason 
to  doubt  its  correctness.  But  as  soon  as  we  go  back  of  the 
Greek  to  the  underlying  Semitic,  the  original  meaning  of 
the  troublesome  phrase  is  evident.  What  the  author  of  the 
narrative  wrote  was  miiT  nnft  Sx,  and  the  translation 
should  have  been  ek  r yv  xwpa v tt}?  ’IouScua?,  ‘to  the  'province 
of  Judea.’  It  is  the  phrase  which  occurs,  for  example,  in 
Ezra  v.  8,  Win&  TUTS,  where  the  Greek  has  ek  ryv  x^Pav 
tt}?  ’I ovBalaf,  and  in  2 Macc.  i.  1,  iv  tt)  yrdpa  tt)?  ’Ioudata? ; 
cf.  also  Neh.  i.  3,  xi.  3.  That  this  was  the  intent  of  the 
author  is  made  still  more  evident  by  the  comparison  of 
verse  65,  ical  iv  o\tj  tt)  opeivg  t?}?  ’IoyScua?  Bie\a\eiTO  . . . t a 
pi) para,  and  ii.  4,  avefiy  Be  ical  ’Icoaycp  ...  etc  7ro'\eeo?  N a^aped 
ek  tt]v  ’I ovBaiav.  In  mentioning  the  journey  from  Nazareth 
to  the  neighborhood  of  Jerusalem,  it  was  most  natural  to 
speak  of  passing  through  the  hill  country  into  Judea;  thus  in 
the  book  of  Judith,  where  the  narrator  is  dealing  with  this 
same  route,  he  represents  the  high  priest  in  Jerusalem  as 
calling  upon  the  people  of  Shechem  and  Samaria  “ to  hold  the 
passes  into  the  hill  country,  because  through  them  was  the 
entrance  into  Judea,”  Sia/caTaeryety  t«?  ava/3d<rei<i  tt}?  opeivi }?, 
otl  Bi  avTwv  yv  t)  €L<ToBo<i  ek  t rjv  ’I ovBcu'av.  The  reason  why 
the  Greek  of  Luke  i.  39  mistranslates  is  perfectly  obvious, 
and  a very  good  one : because  in  the  first  century  a.d.  the 
use  of  nnfc  in  the  signification  ‘ province ’ was  practically 
obsolete,  having  been  supplanted  by  the  meaning  ‘city.’ 
As  I have  pointed  out  elsewhere,7  the  uniform  meaning  of 
the  word  (whether  Hebrew  or  Aramaic)  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment was  ‘province’;  yet  its  use  to  mean  ‘city’  was  also 
common  as  early  as  the  second  century  b.c.,  as  seems  to  be 
shown  by  the  old  Greek  translation  (7ro'\t?)  in  Dan.  xi.  24. 
By  the  second  century  a.d.  the  meaning  ‘city’  was  the  only 
usual  one.  Thus  we  have  cpba  nna,  ‘ the  city  of 
Chalcis,’  in  the  Megillath  Taanith;  and  the  translator 
Symmachus  even  ‘corrects’  the  %&>/>«  of  the  older  Greek 
versions  of  the  Old  Testament  to  i ro'Xi?  in  1 Kings  xx.  14, 
Dan.  viii.  2 ; and  (presumably  also  his  correction)  in  the 

7 “Notes  on  the  Aramaic  Part  of  Daniel,”  in  the  Transactions  of  the  Connecticut 
Academy  of  Arts  and  Sciences,  15.  259  f.  (1909). 


292  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


conflate  Hexaplar  text  of  Neh.  i.  3,  ev  ry  opa  iv  ry  7 roXei. 
The  mistranslation  in  Dan.  viii.  2 is  a perfect  parallel  to  the 
one  in  Luke,  for  the  Hebrew  reads  nnSH  Db'23,  which 
Symmachus  renders  ‘in  the  city  ( !)  Elam.’  The  word  con- 
tinued to  keep  its  old  meaning  in  the  phrase  ‘the  province 
of  Judea,’  in  Jewish  circles,  long  after  the  beginning  of  the 
Christian  era ; as  appears,  for  example,  from  the  occur- 
rence of  the  phrase  in  the  Midrash  Echa  (see  Dalman’s 
Dialektproben,  p.  15,  line  5 from  the  bottom). 

Taken  in  connection  with  all  the  other  indications  of 
translation  — the  glaring  Hebraisms,  the  constant  presence 
of  a Semitic  idiom  underlying  the  Greek  — this  evidence 
of  mistranslation  is  absolutely  decisive.  I believe  that  the 
original  document  was  Hebrew,  not  Aramaic : for  the 
Aramaic  XfinD  Tlirb  would  hardly  have  been  rendered  by 
els  7 to\lv  ’lovSa.  The  word  TIIT  could  not  well  have  been 
misunderstood ; moreover,  it  does  not  look  like  the  name 
of  a town,  nor  would  it  have  been  transliterated  by  IoaSa. 
It  is  also  true  in  general  that  the  idioms  underlying  the 
Greek  of  the  two  chapters  suggest  classical  Hebrew  rather 
than  Aramaic.  The  beginning  of  the  narrative,  for  example, 
ran  about  as  follows:  "TltX  p3  HTi.T  DTHH  ^3  ,TH5 

♦MtrrbK  natri  pnx  maaa  rraw  ibi  irax  nnataaa  w mat 
rtostaai  mir  ma  baa  cabin  mban  aab  cmiri* 

♦orrisra  D"K3  aman  mpa  aatrbx  'a  ibs  anb  pm7  ,a\an 
8 naj  nanarTtaswaa9  dtoi  ^sb  imatra  maa  unaa  rn8 
a'bbsna  aan  bn, a bai10  mrr  bap  bs  xa  wm  .mpnb 
♦nan  mrr  isba  rbx  xmi11  ♦mtopn  naa  pna.  The  Hebrew 
idioms  fit  the  Greek  exactly.  Aramaic  would  not  always 
be  so  natural ; for  example,  in  the  phrase  rrpo  fie  f3y /cores  ev  rals 
yyepais  av ra>v,  in  verse  7.  If  the  original  had  at  the 

end  of  verse  6,  as  seems  very  plausible,  then  it  may  well 
be  that  the  idiom  intended  was  the  one  which  is  found  in 
Ps.  xv.  2,  lxxxiv.  12;  Pr.  xxviii.  18,  etc.,  i.e.  ("pi)  . . . B'abn 
aran,  the  adjective  being  really  singular  instead  of  plural. 

8 This  is  pretty  certainly  the  verb  rendered  by  eXaye.  See  Mishna,  Tamid 
5,  4,  where  the  technical  phrase  occurs:  rntOpU  HDW  “ Whoever  obtained 
by  lot  the  duty  of  offering  incense,”  and  compare  the  common  use  of  the  word 
to  mean  ‘obtain  (by  lot),  attain,'  etc.  I am  indebted  for  this  suggestion  to 
Prof.  G.  F.  Moore,  who  remarks  that  the  tract  Tamid  is  one  of  the  oldest  in 
the  Mishna,  and  the  terminology  doubtless  much  older  still. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


293 


There  are  other  evident  mistranslations  in  the  Greek  of 
this  document,  aside  from  the  one  in  i.  39.  In  i.  59-64  are 
recounted  the  marvels  which  attended  the  circumcision  of 
the  child  John.  The  narrator  then  adds  that  fear  fell  upon 
all  the  neighbors,  and  that  these  things  were  talked  about 
in  all  that  region,  men  saying:  “What  is  to  become  of  this 
boy,  for  the  hand  (i.e.  the  miraculous  power)  of  the  Lord  is 
with  him!  ” But  our  Greek  translation  has  made  the  aston- 
ished exclamation  consist  only  of  the  question,  “What  is  to 
become  of  this  boy  ? ” while  the  added  reason,  that  the  power 
of  Yah  we  was  shown  in  these  miracles  which  were  “talked 
about,”  is  now  changed  into  a general  remark  made  by  the 
narrator  himself.  The  original  had  simply  ffiJT  T '3, 
and  the  rendering  should  have  been : “ for  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  is  with  him,”  ear!  instead  of  rjv. 

The  zeugma  in  verse  64,  aveco^V  8e  to  aTop-a  av tov  ical 
j]  <y\(oaaa  avrov,  ‘his  mouth  and  his  tongue  were  opened,’ 
does  not  point  to  any  similar  awkwardness  in  the  original, 
for  the  very  same  verb,  hn£J,  would  regularly  be  used 
either  of  ‘opening’  the  mouth  or  of  ‘setting  free’  the  tongue. 

In  ii.  1 we  read  : e^rfkdev  Soy  pa  . . . curoypdfecrdai  irdaav 
t yv  ohcovpevgv.  The  original  was  of  course  Sd,  and  it 

probably  meant  ‘all  the  land’  (of  Palestine),  not  ‘all  the  world’ 

ii.  11  contains  an  obvious  error  of  translation,  in  the  words 

05  eariv  xplgtos  Kvpios.  The  Hebrew  had  m!T  ITttflp,  ‘ Yahwe’s 

Anointed ,’  and  the  rendering  in  Greek  should  have  been 

'XpLaTOS  tcvpiov  or  6 ypt<7T05  TOV  KVpiOV  (cf.  vs.  26). 

The  hymns  which  lie  imbedded  in  the  narrative  — and 
never  existed  apart  from  it  — sound  distinctly  more  like 
Hebrew  than  like  Aramaic.  The  poems  most  nearly  akin 
to  them,  in  the  Hebrew  literature  with  which  we  happen  to 
be  acquainted,  are  the  so-called  Psalms  of  Solomon,  which 
were  written  near  the  middle  of  the  last  century  b.c.  Like 
the  best  of  those,  the  hymns  in  Luke  are  fresh  and  vigorous 
compositions,* * 05 * * * 9  which  in  their  original  form  must  have  been 

9 The  fact  that  the  language  “consists  largely  of  reminiscences”  is  not  a blem- 
ish. The  devotional  poetry  of  any  religion  of  long  standing  must  use  familiar 
phrases ; it  could  not  otherwise  have  its  intended  effect.  Moreover,  in  this  case 
the  aim  of  emphasizing  the  messianic  idea  necessitated  an  especially  full  and  sug- 
gestive use  of  the  messianic  phrases  of  the  Old  Testament. 


294  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

fine  specimens  of  Hebrew  poetry.  The  metrical  structure  — 
lines  of  three  rhythmic  beats  — can  generally  be  recognized ; 
indeed,  wherever  the  style  is  lofty  and  the  language  poetic 
the  same  regular  rhythm  returns,  as  in  any  late  Hebrew 
composition.  Thus,  for  example,  i.  13-17,  30-33,  ii.  34  f. 
In  ii.  14  we  seem  to  have  a fine  example  of  a rhymed 
tristich : 

Dinipn  nirrS  ina 
□te  pan  by) 

10  lip  D1MK3 

Some  of  the  idioms  which  appear  most  barbarous  in  the 
Greek  belong  properly  to  the  high  style  of  Hebrew  psalmody. 
A case  of  this  sort  is  the  line  12JHD  TH  in  i.  51  (already 
mentioned).  Another  is  in  i.  78,  8ia  C7r\dyxva  e’Ae'ou?  6eov 
imSX  IDIl  ‘'ttlTlD,  ' through  the  gracious  compassion  of 
our  God.’  In  all  these  poetical  passages  the  translation 
follows  the  original  word  by  word,  and  clause  by  clause,  as 
is  the  case  also  in  the  Greek  Old  Testament.  It  is  therefore 
all  but  impossible  to  suppose  that  a<£o'/3&>?  in  i.  74  was  con- 
nected with  \arpeveiv  (vs.  75)  in  the  original  poem.  The 
Hebrew  had  something  like  this  : 

uhzti  a'rx  t»  | min  xh  ):b  nnS 
w T3sS  pan  | D'dro  im«  I'ssh 

‘To  give  us  release  from  fear,  rescued  from  the  power  of  our 
foes,  that  we  might  serve  him  in  holiness,  and  in  righteous- 
ness before  him,  all  our  days.’  The  poetic  compound 
rmmsS,  ‘fearlessness,’  naturally  gave  trouble  to  the  trans- 
lator. 

A very  important  fact  to  be  noticed,  in  connection  with 
the  Greek  of  this  ‘Gospel  of  the  Infancy,’  is  the  extent  to 
which  it  exhibits  the  language  of  Luke 11  himself.  His 
vocabulary  and  style  have  been  studied  very  carefully  by 
many  scholars,  and  the  main  results  are  familiar.  Whoever 

10  Granting  the  fact  of  translation  (and  it  must  be  granted),  the  evidence  here  in 
favor  of  etiSoida,  as  against  evooKias,  will  probably  be  convincing  to  scholars  in 
proportion  as  they  have  studied  the  details  of  Hebrew  prosody. 

11  I use  the  name  merely  for  convenience,  without  intending  to  express  an  opinion 
as  to  the  authorship  of  the  Third  Gospel. 


CHARLES  C.  TORRE Y 


295 


examines  such  classified  lists  as  those  in  Plummer’s  com- 
mentary, pp.  li-lxiii,  for  example,  will  see  that  the  evidence 
of  Luke’s  authorship  of  the  Greek  of  chapters  i and  ii  is 
quite  decisive.  Both  number  and  nature  of  the  character- 
istic words  and  usages  are  such  as  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt. 
As  Plummer  says  (p.  Ixix)  : “The  peculiarities  and  character- 
istics of  Luke’s  style  and  diction  . . . run  through  our  Gos- 
pel from  end  to  end.  . . . In  the  first  two  chapters  they  are 
perhaps  somewhat  more  frequent  than  elsewhere.'”  12  Observe 
also  the  two  passages  from  these  chapters  which  he  has 
printed  on  page  lxx,  with  indication  of  the  words  and  phrases 
which  are  more  or  less  characteristic  of  the  author  of  the 
Gospel.  Yet  this  narrative  has  not  been  worked  over  or 
rewritten  by  Luke ; on  the  contrary,  it  bears  with  especial 
plainness  the  marks  of  a very  close  rendering ; as  Plummer 
observes  (pp.  xlix  f.),  no  part  of  the  Gospel  is  more  uncom- 
promisingly Hebraistic  than  the  narrative  of  these  two 
opening  chapters.  The  only  natural  conclusion  that  can 
be  drawn,  and  the  one  to  which  every  indication  seems  to 
point,  while  there  is  really  nothing  of  importance  that  can 
be  said  against  it,  is  this,  that  the  author  of  the  Third  Gospel 
himself  translated  the  Narrative  of  the  Infancy  from  Hebrew 
into  Greek.  The  manner  of  the  beginning  of  this  Gospel, 
then,  affords  an  interesting  parallel  to  that  of  the  beginning 
of  2 Maccabees,  already  referred  to,  inasmuch  as  the  author 
of  the  latter  book  begins  with  a fairly  close  translation, 
made  by  himself,13  of  certain  Aramaic  documents,  at  the  con- 
clusion of  which  he  proceeds  at  once  with  his  own  fluent 
and  elegant  Greek,  the  contrast  being  quite  as  striking  as 
that  in  Luke’s  Gospel. 

Having  thus  established  the  fact  that  Luke  was  really 
successful  in  his  search  for  original  Semitic  material,  and 

12  The  italics  are  mine. 

13  See  my  demonstration  of  this  fact  in  the  article  “Die  Briefe  2 Makk.  1 : 1— 
2:  18”  in  the  Zeitschr.  fur  die  altt.  Wissensch.,  vol.  20  (1900),  pp.  239  f.,  supple- 
mented by  my  Notes  on  the  Aramaic  Part  of  Daniel,  p.  254.  In  my  article  in  the 
ZATW,  I argued  from  the  phrase  iv  Koi\ihp.ari  (ppiaros  t6.£iv  eyovros  dvvopov,  in 
1:19.  I could  have  made  out  a still  stronger  case  if  I had  known  then,  what  I 
have  observed  since,  that  the  very  same  circumlocution  occurs  in  9:  18,  where 
“ he  wrote  a supplicating  letter,  ” is  expressed  by  eypa \f/ev  im.aTo\yv  %x°'J<Ta-v  Ik€tii- 
pla.%  rcUfii'. 


296  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


that  he  himself  translated  at  least  a part  of  it  into  Greek, 
we  have  gained  important  standing  ground.  First  of  all, 
the  question  of  the  source  used  by  him  in  the  earlier  part 
of  the  book  of  Acts  takes  on  a new  interest.  The  evidence 
of  his  handiwork  is  practically  the  same  as  in  the  first  two 
chapters  of  the  Gospel ; the  Greek  is  distinctly  translation- 
Greek,  and  it  contains  a convincing  proportion  of  Lukan 
words  and  turns  of  speech.  Here,  again,  the  appearance 
is  not  that  of  a Greek  text  ‘ worked  over  ’ by  the  evangelist ; 
there  is  only  one  plausible  explanation,  namely,  that  he 
himself  was  the  author  of  the  translation.  The  document 
which  he  translated  appears  to  have  belonged  to  that  earliest 
stratum  of  Palestinian  Christian  literature  which  was  written 
and  circulated  in  the  Aramaic  tongue,  and  had  for  its  subject 
the  life  and  teachings  of  Jesus  and  the  beginnings  of  the 
Christian  church.  It  is  just  such  a document  as  we  should 
have  expected  Luke  to  find  and  use. 

The  problems  of  translation  connected  with  Luke’s  use 
of  his  two  main  sources,  Q and  Mark,  are  much  more  com- 
plex ; this  is  not  the  place  to  attempt  to  examine  them 
closely.  The  two  minor  sources  just  considered,  namely,  the 
Gospel  of  the  Infancy  and  the  story  of  the  first  work  of  the 
Apostles,  presumably  lay  before  Luke  each  in  a single 
recension ; at  all  events,  we  have  no  evidence  that  either  of 
them  was  current  in  more  than  one  form.  But  the  case  of 
the  two  major  sources  was  altogether  different.  Wherever 
there  was  a Christian  community,  they  were  read,  and  recited 
from  memory,  and  copied  for  further  distribution.  In  the 
Oriental  church,  both  Semitic  and  Greek  recensions  were  in 
circulation.  It  was  in  the  nature  of  the  case  that  the  latter 
should  be  more  numerous  than  the  former,  even  in  Palestine. 
The  true  centre  of  gravity  of  the  Christian  church  was  at 
first  in  the  towns  and  villages  of  Judea  and  Galilee,  but  it 
remained  there  only  a very  short  time.  The  great  cities 
of  the  neighboring  lands  took  over  the  tradition,  and  Greek 
became  the  language  of  the  Eastern  church  not  only  where 
it  was  the  vernacular,  but  also  all  through  Syria  and  Pales- 
tine, from  Antioch  to  Egypt.  Jew  and  Christian  went  each 
his  own  way,  and  their  separateness  from  each  other  was 
emphasized.  The  Christian  Aramaic  literature  which  grew 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


297 


up  in  the  first  century  soon  dwindled.  It  is  a question  of 
very  great  interest,  in  what  form  or  forms  Luke  found  Q and 
Mark.  After  these  two  all-important  documents  had  been 
translated,  and  were  widely  current  in  various  Greek  recen- 
sions, as  well  as  in  more  than  one  variety  of  combination, 
it  was  a matter  of  course  that  copies  in  Aramaic,  as  the  orig- 
inal language,  should  have  been  especially  treasured,  in  the 
places  where  they  were  still  in  existence.  It  can  hardly 
be  doubted  that  both  the  Aramaic  Mark  14  and  the  Aramaic 
Q were  still  to  be  had  in  the  first  decades  of  the  second  cen- 
tury, though  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether  they  were  to 
be  found  in  many  places.  An  evangelist  who  really  took 
his  task  seriously,  who  knew  that  there  were  many  accounts 
of  Jesus  and  wished  to  compile  the  best  possible  one,  who 
thought  it  worth  his  while  to  look  for  the  most  authentic 
material,  could  not  fail  at  least  to  become  aware  of  the  exist- 
ence of  these  original  documents.  Luke  was  such  an  evan- 
gelist, and  was  also  one  who  (as  we  now  know)  did  actually 
collect  and  translate  Semitic  sources.  We  should  certainly 
suppose,  a 'priori,  that  he  would  obtain  and  make  use  of 
both  Mark  and  Q in  Aramaic. 

Another  complicating  factor  in  the  problem  is  the  Gospel 
of  Matthew.  The  Teachings  of  Jesus  (Q)  had  already  been 
combined,  by  Matthew,  with  the  story  of  his  career  given 
by  Mark.  The  combination  was  a most  important  one,  and 
could  not  fail  to  be  extremely  popular;  the  evangelist  who 
could  hope  to  surpass  it  would  need  to  be  able  to  convict 
its  author  of  misuse  of  his  material,  or  to  bring  forward  new 
and  important  matter  of  his  own  collecting.  Luke  appears 
to  have  felt  able  to  do  both  of  these  things. 

The  Third  Gospel  was  composed  in  Greek.  In  incorpo- 
rating the  material  contained  in  Mark,  Luke  of  course  used 
the  current  Greek  version,  though  giving  it  some  editorial 
revision,  as  was  natural.  As  a basis  for  such  revision  he  had 
first  of  all  (we  may  presume)  a copy  of  the  Gospel  in  Aramaic, 
and  in  addition  to  this,  material  derived  from  some  of  the 

14  Not  the  Aramaic  sources  of  Mark ; we  have  no  evidence  of  any  such  sources. 
The  entire  Gospel  was  originally  composed  and  published  in  Aramaic.  It  was  very 
soon  rendered  into  Greek,  and  our  text  is  a somewhat  “augmented  and  improved” 
revision  of  the  translation. 


298  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

“many”  gospels  whose  existence  he  mentions  in  his  preface.15 
In  making  use  of  the  Gospel  of  Matthew,  it  is  not  to  be 
doubted  that  he  had  before  him  a Greek  text  very  similar 
to  our  own ; on  the  other  hand,  it  is  a debatable  question 
whether  he  may  not  also  have  had  access  to  this  Gospel  in  a 
Semitic  form.  It  is  all  but  universally  agreed,  at  the  present 
day,  that  the  old  tradition  asserting  that  the  First  Gospel 
was  composed  in  ‘Hebrew’  (presumably  meaning  Aramaic) 
was  mistaken.  I confess  that  the  evidence  seems  to  me  to 
support  the  tradition  rather  than  to  disparage  it,  and  I 
cannot  see  the  force  of  the  arguments  to  the  contrary  which 
are  commonly  advanced.  From  the  first  words  of  the  opening 
chapter,  Bt73\o<?  yevecrews  ’I r/aou  'KpurTov,  on  to  the  end  of 
the  book  it  is  all  translation-Greek.  Plummer’s  Com- 
mentary on  Matthew  (1910),  p.  viii,  has  the  following  : “The 
First  Gospel  is  evidently  not  a translation.  . . . Who- 
ever wrote  it  took  not  only  the  substance  of  the  Second  Gos- 
pel, but  the  Greek  phraseology  of  it,  showing  clearly  that  he 
worked  in  Greek.  It  is  incredible  that  he  translated  the 
Greek  of  Mark  into  Hebrew,  and  that  then  some  one  trans- 
lated Matthew’s  Hebrew  back  into  Greek  that  is  almost  the 
same  as  Mark’s.”  This  is  further  ‘illustrated’  by  the  case 
of  certain  passages  which  were  rendered  from  English  into 
French,  and  then  (by  another  translator)  back  into  very 
different  English.  But  such  argument  as  this  hardly  needs 
answer.  The  fact  that  Mark’s  phraseology  is  adopted 
means,  of  course,  that  the  author  (whether  translator  or 
not)  of  the  Greek  Matthew  either  knew  the  Greek  Mark 
by  heart  or  else  had  it  open  before  him  when  he  wrote. 
The  ancient  translators  always  worked  in  that  way,  using 
older  versions  whenever  they  could.  We  have  abundant 
illustration,  both  in  the  versions  of  the  Old  Testament  and 
elsewhere.  In  modern  times,  moreover,  the  same  thing 
is  likely  to  be  true.  In  1894,  for  example,  Mrs.  A.  S. 
Lewis  published  A Translation  of  the  Four  Gospels  from 
the  Syriac  of  the  Sinaitic  Palimpsest.  The  first  glance 
sufficed  to  show  to  the  reader  that  this  translation  used 
everywhere  the  words  of  the  English  version  of  1611,  and 

15  We  have  no  reason  to  suppose,  however,  that  these  minor  sources  contributed 
anything  of  importance  to  his  criticism  of  Mark. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


299 


closer  examination  showed  that  the  language  of  this  ‘Au- 
thorized Version’  was  retained  even  in  a multitude  of 
cases  where  it  did  not  quite  agree  with  the  Syriac  which 
it  professed  to  render.16  The  translator  was  attached  to 
the  wording  of  the  standard  version,  and  so  also  were  the 
most  of  those  who  were  likely  to  use  her  translation.  It  is 
for  a precisely  similar  reason  that  the  citations  from  the 
Old  Testament  in  our  Synoptic  Gospels  are  given  quite 
frequently  in  the  wording  of  the  Septuagint,  a fact  which  has 
been  generally  regarded  as  evidence  that  Greek  was  the 
original  language  of  the  Gospels.  The  translator  of  the  Gospel 
wished  to  confirm  its  readers  in  the  faith,  not  to  stagger 
them.  Their  Bible  was  the  Greek  Old  Testament,  not  the 
Hebrew,  and  for  them  all  and  for  all  purposes  the  Greek  form 
of  words  was  the  right  one.  All  these  passages  had  been 
translated,  centuries  before,  by  inspired  men,  who  had  faith- 
fully followed  the  original.  In  Semitic  gospels,  written  for 
those  who  used  the  Hebrew  Old  Testament,  the  words  of  the 
citations  ought  to  correspond  to  the  current  Hebrew  text; 
but  not  so  in  gospels  intended  for  the  great  Hellenistic  world. 
Schmiedel,  in  his  article  “ Gospels  ” in  the  Encyclopaedia 
Biblica,  § 130,  argues  against  a Semitic  original  for  Matthew 
on  the  ground  of  certain  passages  “which  would  not  have 
been  available  had  the  Hebrew  original  been  followed.” 
Only  the  mistranslation  ‘virgin,’  he  asserts,  made  it  possible 
to  adduce  Is.  vii.  14  in  Matt.  i.  22  f.  But  this  is  an  amazing 
assertion.  Taking  the  passage  in  Isaiah  just  as  it  is  rendered 
in  any  modern  critical  commentary,  it  would  still  be  pre- 
cisely the  sort  of  passage  that  Matthew  desired,  much  more 
striking  and  more  convincing  than  the  most  of  the  other 
quotations  which  he  uses  for  the  same  purpose.  What  is 
more,  the  birth  of  Jesus  as  narrated  in  the  Gospel  of  Matthew 
in  its  original  form  was  not  a virgin  birth  at  all  (on  this  point 
see  further  below).  Schmiedel  then  argues  from  the  quo- 
tation of  Is.  xl.  3 in  Matt.  iii.  3,  saying  that  it  could  have  been 
made  only  by  one  who  connected  the  words  ‘in  the  wilder- 
ness’ with  the  preceding  rather  than  with  the  following 
words,  whereas  “in  Isaiah  the  crier  is  of  course  not  in  the 

16  As  is  well  known,  Mrs.  Lewis’s  translation  has  since  then  been  very  carefully 
revised  by  her. 


300  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


wilderness.”  Blit  this  argument  shatters  on  the  fact  that 
Matthew  and  his  contemporaries  could  not  foresee  the  dis- 
coveries of  our  modern  commentators ; the  Jewish  tradition 
has  always  connected  “Q'lftiD  only  with  the  preceding  words, 
and  for  all  the  native  interpreters  the  voice  was  one  crying 
in  the  wilderness ,17  The  two  remaining  passages  mentioned 
by  Schmiedel,  Matt.  xxi.  9 and  xxi.  16,  make  no  difficulty 
whatever.  In  Ps.  viii.  3,  alms  was  a very  natural  Jewish 
interpretation  of  1!? ; ef.  the  Targum,  Greek,  and  Syriac  ren- 
derings of  the  same  word  in  Ps.  lxviii.  35.  On  the  ‘Hosanna’ 
passage  see  Wellhausen’s  Marcus,  p.  93.  Neither  the  dative 
to)  viw  A avelB  nor  the  iv  tow  u\]si'cttow  is  difficult  of  explana- 
tion. Schmiedel  himself  remarks  (ibid.)  that  the  Gospel  of 
Matthew  is  the  one  in  which  the  citations  from  the  Old 
Testament  most  often  follow  the  Hebrew  rather  than  the 
Greek,  and  that  its  author  “could  not  have  given  such 
quotations  as,  for  example,  ii.  15,  23,  viii.  17,  xxvii.  9 f. 
after  the  LXX  at  all.”  Highly  significant  admissions ! 
More  than  all  this,  the  framework,  connecting  fabric,  and 
merely  embellishing  matter  of  the  book  as  we  have  it  (and 
not  merely  the  underlying  sources)  give  plain  evidence  of 
translation.  A typical  case  of  the  sort  is  found  in  xxviii.  1, 
parallel  to  Mark  xvi.  1 f.  and  Luke  xxiv.  1.  Several 
scholars  have  pointed  out  the  fact  that  the  monstrous 
‘Greek’  in  Matthew,  o\Jre  Se  aafiftdTtdv,  ry  €7Ti(f)0}crK0V(Tr)  els  yiav 
aa/3f3aToov,  is  merely  one  of  the  painfully  close  translations 
with  which  we  are  familiar.  The  original  was  xrDIT  piEXD 
X2w*2  "TH  TIM,  that  is,  ‘after  the  Sabbath,  in  the  night  intro- 
ducing the  first  day  of  the  week.’ 18  The  evidence  of  trans- 
lation is  perfect,  for  the  Aramaic  phrases  are  the  ones 
regularly  used,  the  Greek  rendering  fits  them  exactly,  and 
no  Greek  author  could  ever  have  devised  such  a form  of 
words.  Now  these  phrases  in  the  Aramaic  of  the  First 
Gospel  are  a part  of  the  evangelist’s  own  expansion  of  the 


17  In  my  own  opinion,  this  traditional  reading  is  the  correct  one. 

18  The  evidence  has  been  set  forth  most  fully  and  convincingly  by  Professor 
Moore,  in  the  Journal  of  the  American  Oriental  Society,  26.  323-329  (1905). 
Moore  also  refers  to  Geiger,  and  points  out  the  fact  that  Jerome  was  the  first  to 
suspect  imperfect  translation  in  this  passage.  See  also  the  reference  to  Professor 
Kennett  in  Wright’s  Synopsis  of  the  Gospels  in  Greek,  3d  ed.,  p.  171. 


CHARLES  C.  TORRE Y 


301 


Mark  narrative  — as  he  constantly  expands  it  and  em- 
broiders upon  it.  This  would  be  by  far  the  most  plausible 
theory  on  general  grounds ; compare  also  the  Xewcbv  w?  xL(*v 
of  xxviii.  3 with  XevKa  <w?  to  <£w?  and  <w?  6 r/Xios  in  xvii.  2 (also 
embellishments  by  Matthew).  It  is  very  probable  that 
another  mistranslation  is  to  be  found  in  close  proximity  to 
the  one  just  considered.  In  xxvii.  62  the  narrator  tells  how 
on  the  day  — or,  perhaps  better,  on  the  evening  — preceding 
the  resurrection,  the  priests  and  Pharisees  came  to  Pilate 
to  urge  him  to  secure  the  tomb  and  set  a watch.  The 
Greek  has  : rrj  Be  ervavpiov , t^ti?  iarlv  p,era  t yv  irapaaicevyv, 
and  commentators  exclaim  over  this  “singular  expression.” 
Some  have  queried  whether  it  may  not  have  been  a circum- 
locution adopted  in  order  to  avoid  using  the  word  ‘ Sabbath  ’ ; 
but  as  Plummer  (Comm.,  p.  408)  observes,  rrj  Be  erravpiov, 
‘on  the  morrow,’  would  be  quite  sufficient  in  itself.  It  may 
be  conjectured  that  the  original  had : “iro  KftVTI 

KrDVTJ?,  which  should  have  been  rendered : ‘Now  on  the 
morrow,  after  sunset,  the  chief  priests  and  Pharisees  gathered 
together,’  etc.  The  narrator  represented  this  as  occurring  not 
on  the  Sabbath  day,  but  just  after  its  close.  The  rendering 
in  our  Greek  Matthew  is  the  only  natural  one,  however, 
for  (judging  from  what  little  we  know  of  the  history  of  the 
word)  the  use  of  XrQl"!!?  in  its  original  signification,  ‘sunset,’ 
must  have  been  very  nearly  obsolete  at  this  time.  This 
passage,  also,  belongs  to  one  of  Matthew’s  own  additions. 
A very  frequently  occurring  indication  of  translation,  found 
in  all  parts  of  the  Gospel,  is  the  word  Tore  used  to  continue 
a narrative.  It  could  only  be  the  rendering  of  the  similarly 
used  Aramaic  pIK.  Because  of  the  evidence  of  this  nature, 
the  amount  of  which  could  be  multiplied,  it  seems  to  me  that 
the  old  tradition,  that  the  whole  Gospel  of  Matthew  was 
originally  composed  in  Aramaic,  still  easily  holds  the  field. 

Nevertheless,  I do  not  believe  that  we  need  to  take  into 
account  the  possibility  that  Luke  made  use  of  the  Aramaic 
Matthew.  It  seems  plain  that  the  Greek  Matthew  influ- 
enced him ; but  it  is  hardly  less  evident  that  he  regarded 
that  Gospel  as  of  secondary  importance,  not  by  any  means 
to  be  used  as  a source  in  making  his  own  compilation.  I 
think  we  may  see  plainly  some  reasons  why  Luke  would 


302  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


have  felt  justified  in  leaving  Matthew  at  one  side  — as  he 
certainly  seems  to  have  done. 

First  of  all,  he  had  in  his  own  hands  Matthew’s  two  main 
sources,  Mark  and  Q,  and  could  see  that  his  predecessor  had 
dealt  with  both  of  them  arbitrarily  and  not  always  wisely. 
Matthew’s  aim  had  been  only  that  of  an  evangelist ; Luke’s 
was  also  that  of  a historian,  as  he  says  in  his  prologue. 
Mark’s  Life  of  Jesus  had  provided  the  chronological  order 
of  all  the  main  events ; Matthew  had  greatly  changed  this 
order,  while  using  Mark’s  own  material  and  simply  trans- 
posing it  — an  unwarranted  proceeding,  from  Luke’s  point 
of  view.  In  his  use  of  the  Teachings,  also,  Matthew  had 
dismembered  and  redistributed  according  to  his  own  pref- 
erence. In  assigning  the  discourses  to  certain  definite  occa- 
sions he  had  not  always  achieved  good  results,  and  his  new 
combinations  of  Sayings  were  sometimes  not  convincing. 
Moreover,  in  using  both  Mark  and  Q,  Matthew  had  ex- 
panded and  embellished  very  extensively,  not  merely  chang- 
ing the  wording  of  the  narrative,  but  also  adding  details  and 
incidents  in  abundance.  On  the  other  hand,  many  incidents 
and  details,  and  even  whole  scenes,  recorded  by  Mark,  were 
entirely  omitted  by  Matthew.  This  embellishment  was  a 
purely  literary  proceeding,  which  was  not  only  allowable 
according  to  the  ideas  of  the  time,  but  could  have  been  taken 
for  granted.  Luke  himself  of  course  felt  free  to  deal  with 
his  sources  in  this  way ; 19  but  here,  obviously,  was  another 
reason  why  he  could  give  little  weight  to  Matthew’s  Gospel 
as  a source  for  his  own. 

19  The  fact  that  Luke  conceived  his  task  as  that  of  a ‘historian’  does  not  at  all 
imply  that  his  aims  and  methods  were  like  those  of  a modern  writer  of  history.  For 
a brief  discussion  of  this  subject  with  some  illustration  from  Jewish  literature  I may 
refer  to  my  Ezra  Studies,  pp.  145-150.  So  far  as  we  are  able  to  judge,  the  most 
serious  biographers  and  chroniclers  generally  felt  free  to  select  what  material  they 
preferred,  omitting  whatever  they  did  not  care  to  use,  and  saw  no  objection  to 
increasing  the  interest,  or  the  parenetic  value,  of  the  work  by  adding  any  amount  of 
lively  or  instructive  detail.  Their  aim  was  like  that  of  the  modern  painter:  to 
give  a true  picture  in  its  impression  as  a whole,  faithfulness  in  minutiae  being  a 
matter  of  comparatively  small  importance.  All  this  is  true  of  every  one  of  our  four 
Gospels.  Wellhausen,  Einleitung,  2d  ed.,  p.  77,  writes : “ Markus  wollte  ohne 
Zweifel  die  ganze  Tradition  aufzeichnen,  mit  den  Erzahlungen  iiber  Jesus  zugleich 
auch  seine  Worte.  Dass  er  was  ihm  davon  zuganglich  war  nicht  vollstandig  auf- 
nahm,  dass  er  was  schon  friiher  gebucht  war  ausliess,  kann  unmoglich  angenommen 
werden."  I confess  that  I am  unable  to  feel  so  sure  of  this. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


303 


Again,  the  fact  is  patent  that  the  author  of  the  Third 
Gospel,  so  far  as  the  material  — or  the  fashion  of  it  — is  his 
own,  occupies  a theological  point  of  view  which  is  more 
advanced  than  that  of  the  author  of  the  First  Gospel. 
There  had  been  development  in  both  doctrine  and  usage  of 
the  church ; new  conceptions  made  their  way  to  the  front, 
and  what  had  been  tentative  hypothesis  now  became  recog- 
nized dogma.20  This  fact  is  illustrated  in  numerous  places 
where  Luke  has  revised  the  material  already  used  by  Mark 
or  Matthew,  as  many  commentators  have  remarked.  One 
very  important  illustration,  however,  has  not  received  the 
attention  which  it  deserves  ; namely,  the  doctrine  of  the  vir- 
gin birth.  According  to  the  original  text  of  Matthew,  both 
in  Aramaic  and  in  Greek,  the  birth  of  Jesus  was  not  birth 
from  a virgin.  The  Lewis  (also  called  the  Sinaitic)  Syriac 
version  has  preserved  the  original  readings  in  Matt.  i.  16-25, 
as  any  careful  study  of  the  evidence  shows  with  certainty.21 
(“Jacob  begat  Joseph;  Joseph  . . . begat  Jesus,”  vs.  16. 
“She  shall  bear  to  thee  a son,  and  thou  shall  call  his  name 
Jesus,”  vs.  21.  Joseph,  awaking  from  the  vision  (on  the 
night  of  his  marriage),  “ took  his  wife,  and  she  bore  to  him 
a son,  and  he  called  his  name  Jesus,”  vs.  24,  25.)  The  con- 
ception of  the  child  is  clearly  and  consistently  represented 
as  supernatural,  the  Holy  Spirit  having  anticipated  Joseph, 
yet  the  latter  is  quite  as  truly  the  father,  the  two  elements 
cooperating.  The  child  had  thus  three  parents.  At  the 
time  when  Matthew  wrote,  the  doctrine  of  the  supernatural 
birth  of  Jesus  had  already  taken  a firm  hold  among  his  fol- 
lowers. The  theory  of  the  mystery  embodied  in  the  First 
Gospel  (in  its  original  form)  is  a very  natural  one,  not  a 
whit  more  difficult  to  faith  than  the  later  theory  of  the  virgin 
birth,  and  incomparably  better  suited  to  the  Jewish  doctrine 
of  the  Messiah.  The  genealogical  table  given  in  Matt.  i.  2-16 
really  had  great  significance,  before  the  text  of  the  chapter 
had  been  tampered  with.  But  at  the  time  when  the  Third 


20  This  does  not  by  any  means  imply  a considerable  lapse  of  time.  Develop- 
ment of  doctrine  must  have  been  extremely  rapid  in  just  that  period.  A score  of 
years  would  more  than  suffice  for  all  the  difference  in  this  regard  between  Matthew 
and  Luke. 

21  And  this  version  is  a faithful  translation  of  a Greek  text. 


304  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


Gospel  was  written,  the  doctrine  of  the  virgin  birth  was 
taking  possession  of  the  church,  and  had  already  been  given 
literary  embodiment  in  the  magnificent  composition  which 
Luke  adopted  and  translated.  It  was  irreconcilable  with 
the  account  given  by  Matthew,  and  this  fact  of  itself  would 
be  a sufficient  reason  why  Luke  would  wish  to  leave  the  First 
Gospel  at  one  side,  not  making  his  own  to  rest  upon  it.22 
This  intention  also  appears  in  the  remarkable  genealogical 
table  of  Joseph  which  he  himself  gives  (certainly  his  own 
composition)  in  iii.  23-38.  I do  not  believe  that  this  table 
would  ever  have  been  made,  but  for  the  corresponding  one  in 
Matthew.  All  those  who  had  used  Matthew’s  Gospel  must 
have  been  impressed  with  the  table,  for  it  was  a conspicuous 
thing.  Luke  makes  it  more  complete,  carrying  it  all  the 
way  from  Joseph  to  Adam,  and  at  the  same  time  makes  it 
completely  harmless,  removing  it  to  some  distance  from  the 
story  of  the  Nativity  and  introducing  it  with  the  significant 
w?  ivo/Ai^ero.  We  may  regard  it  as  quite  probable,  then, 
that  Luke  did  not  make  use  of  the  Aramaic  Matthew. 
His  use  of  the  Gospel  even  in  its  Greek  form  appears  to  have 
been  hardly  more  than  occasional  and  incidental.  He  had 
Matthew’s  sources,  which  suited  his  purpose  much  better. 

In  a considerable  number  of  passages  found  in  the  sec- 
tions derived  by  Luke  from  Mark  or  Q,  there  is  evidence  of 
variant  translation  from  the  Aramaic  original.  This  gen- 
erally does  not  mean  mistranslation,  but  it  frequently  means 
a rendering  so  awkward  as  to  arouse  a suspicion  which  can 
be  confirmed  by  comparing  the  parallel  passage  or  passages 
and  reconstructing  the  wording  of  the  original  text.  It  would 
be  a rare  thing  for  one  of  these  translators  to  misunderstand 
the  Aramaic  which  lay  before  him ; but  on  the  other  hand, 
his  ‘school-boy  rendering’  might  easily  be  such  as  to  twist 
the  Greek  tongue  out  of  all  shape,  or  even  to  obscure  the 
sense  effectually.  It  might  in  very  rare  cases  be  possible 
even  to  find  satisfactory  evidence  of  variation  in  the  Aramaic 

22  For  a like  reason,  those  who  handed  down  the  Greek  text  of  the  Gospels  found 
themselves  compelled  to  make  harmonistic  changes  in  Matt.  i.  16-25.  The  his- 
tory of  these  changes  can  be  traced  with  perfect  clearness  in  the  Old  Latin  version, 
certain  Greek  cursives  of  the  Ferrar  group,  the  Curetonian  Syriac,  the  Peshitto, 
and  our  ‘standard’  Greek  text. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


305 


texts  which  were  rendered  by  successive  translators,  but  the 
evidence  justifying  such  a conclusion  would  have  to  be  very 
strong  and  unequivocal  indeed.  In  the  New  Testament 
as  in  the  Old,  the  Greek  phrase  which  seems  clearly  to  be 
derived  from  a new  Semitic  original  is  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten  really  a rendering  of  the  text  already  known. 

The  principal  fact  which  must  all  the  time  be  kept  in  sight, 
in  attempting  to  go  behind  the  traditional  reading  to  its 
Semitic  source,  is  the  varied  process  of  change  to  which  these 
Greek  texts  have  been  subject,  ever  since  they  were  first 
written  down.  The  translator  himself  generally 23  stuck 
very  close  to  his  original.  Yet  the  same  man  incorporating 
a similar  translation  might  feel  free  to  alter  it  arbitrarily 
to  some  extent.  Luke  rendered  the  Hebrew  Gospel  of  the 
Nativity  with  the  most  minute  faithfulness,  as  a close 
study  of  it  shows,24  and  he  doubtless  would  always  have 
translated  faithfully ; but  Luke  the  compiler,  taking  over 
such  a translation  from  another,  would  have  been  quite 
likely  to  give  it  some  editorial  revision,  especially  if  there 
were  other  translations  or  parallel  texts  which  he  could 
compare.  In  general,  translation-Greek  loses  some  of  its 
roughness  and  barbarity  in  passing  through  editorial  hands, 
and  some  illustration  of  this  fact  can  be  seen  in  our  Gospel 
texts.  Wellhausen’s  Einleitung,  2d  ed.,  p.  49,  says  in  re- 
gard to  the  sections  taken  over  from  Mark  by  Matthew  and 
Luke:  “Namentlich  bei  Matthaus  unterscheiden  sich  diese 
durch  ihre  glattere  Sprache  einigermassen  von  den  nicht  aus 
Markus  stammenden  Lehrstiicken.”  That  is,  the  translator 
of  Matthew’s  Gospel  not  only  employed  the  Greek  transla- 
tion of  Mark,  in  all  the  sections  derived  from  that  Gospel, 
but  also  slightly  improved  the  diction  and  style  of  the  Greek. 
It  was  altogether  natural  that  he  should  do  both  of  these 

23  But  not  always.  You  must  know  your  translator  before  you  can  draw  any 
safe  conclusion  where  the  variation  from  the  original  is  not  very  great.  And  it 
often  happens,  in  the  Old  Testament  versions,  that  the  interpreter  who  has  been 
reproducing  his  original  word  by  word  in  the  most  slavish  fashion,  suddenly,  and 
for  no  apparent  reason,  gives  us  a paraphrase,  or  inserts  interpretative  words,  or 
condenses  slightly. 

24  Of  course  the  reason  for  the  appearance  of  an  especially  close  translation  in  the 
first  two  chapters  of  Luke,  and  for  the  unusually  uncouth  Greek,  is  to  be  found 
in  the  large  amount  of  poetry  which  the  document  contains. 


306  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


things.  In  pp.  49-57  Wellhausen  describes  the  material 
changes  made  by  Matthew  and  Luke  in  the  tradition  derived 
from  Mark.  His  characterization  will  be  recognized  as  a 
true  one,  although  in  single  instances  the  observed  change 
may  be  due  to  other  editorial  hands  or  to  the  influence  of 
other  documents,  Semitic  or  Greek,  of  which  we  now  have 
no  knowledge.  In  Luke’s  Gospel,  it  is  certainly  the  case 
that  at  least  considerable  portions  of  the  new  material  are 
translations  from  Semitic  originals.  Through  how  many 
hands  they  may  have  passed,  we  do  not  know.  Where 
the  form  of  words  is  plainly  Luke’s  own,  it  may  be  the  case 
either  that  he  himself  is  translating,  or  that  he  is  revising  a 
rendering  made  by  some  one  else.  If  in  any  instance  it 
happens  that  the  marks  of  his  own  hand  are  abundant  while 
at  the  same  time  the  rendering  is  so  close  as  to  be  noticeably 
awkward,  the  presumption  strongly  favors  the  conclusion 
that  he  himself  was  the  translator.  Where  the  material 
is  not  peculiar  to  Luke  among  the  synoptists,  a good  many 
different  possibilities  have  to  be  taken  into  account.  Such 
a document  as  Q,  containing  mainly  the  Sayings  of  Jesus, 
must  have  been  a great  favorite,  and  we  should  take  for 
granted  a number  of  recensions,  both  in  Aramaic  and  in 
Greek.  From  the  popular  character  of  the  compilation, 
and  the  freedom  with  which  it  would  therefore  be  handled 
in  transmission,  we  could  be  certain  that  the  texts  in  circu- 
lation would  differ  from  one  another  very  considerably. 
How  would  such  a writer  as  Luke  proceed,  in  making  his 
selection  and  compilation  ? Of  course  judgments  as  to 
authenticity  and  relative  attestation  were  ordinarily  far 
beyond  his  power.  He  and  his  contemporaries  had  no  longer 
the  means  of  deciding  such  questions.  The  Greek  Mark, 
both  separate  and  as  incorporated  by  the  Greek  translator 
of  Matthew,  had  already  the  authority  of  a standard  docu- 
ment among  those  for  whom  Luke  wrote,  so  his  extensive 
use  of  it  was  a matter  of  course.  In  the  case  of  the  source 
Q,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  plain  that  there  was  no  standard 
recension.  In  editing  the  greater  part  of  the  material  for 
his  Gospel,  then,  Luke  was  left  to  his  own  criteria,  the  nature 
of  which  we  can  imagine  in  part.  Semitic  documents  would 
be  valued  higher  than  Greek.  In  the  case  of  various  Greek 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


307 


recensions,  translation-Greek  would  be  given  the  preference, 
other  things  being  equal.  Such  forms  of  the  narrative  or 
discourse  as  agreed  best  with  the  picture  of  Jesus  and  his 
disciples  which  the  evangelist  had  formed  would  of  course 
be  chosen.  The  story  of  the  nativity  and  childhood  of 
Jesus  given  by  Matthew,  for  example,  could  not  be  given 
any  consideration  in  the  face  of  the  Hebrew  narrative  of 
the  virgin  birth,  which  must  have  seemed  to  Luke  to  be 
the  only  true  account.  We  should  suppose,  also,  that  the 
wish  to  preserve  noteworthy  variations  in  the  tradition 
would  have  had  its  influence  with  the  evangelist.  On  such 
and  such  an  occasion  Jesus  had  used  a certain  form  of  words 
which  as  handed  down  in  the  Semitic  original  might  be  under- 
stood, and  in  fact  had  been  understood,  in  more  than  one 
way.  Matthew  or  Mark,  or  both,  had  already  incorporated 
one  interpretation ; would  it  not  be  well  to  preserve  the 
other,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  caution  ? It  is  possible  that 
this  consideration  was  the  source  of  some  readings  — or 
translations  — in  the  Third  Gospel.  It  seems  plain  that 
Luke  took  it  for  granted  that  Mark  and  Matthew  would 
continue  in  circulation  side  by  side  with  his  own  Gospel.  If 
he  had  not  believed  this,  he  would  certainly  not  have  omitted 
so  much  of  Mark’s  material.  He  criticised  what  lay  before 
him,  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  aiming  to  cancel  variant  ac- 
counts of  the  same  occurrence,  to  omit  disturbing  elements, 
to  improve  the  arrangement  of  the  matter,  and  to  revise  and 
expand  where  such  revision  seemed  to  be  needed.  Then, 
with  the  addition  of  all  the  new  material  which  he  had  col- 
lected, he  built  up  a Gospel  which  must  have  seemed  to  him 
far  superior  to  the  others.  But  it  is  beyond  all  question 
that  he  would  have  proceeded  very  differently  if  he  had 
wished  or  expected  to  supplant  Mark  and  Matthew.25 

25  Luke  probably  had  reason  to  believe,  for  instance,  that  the  parables  in  Matt, 
xxiv.  43-xxv.  46  were  secondary,  namely  a purely  literary  expansion,  not  a genuine 
record  of  Jesus’  own  words.  He  had  no  need  to  be  anxious  about  the  matter, 
however,  since  the  discourses  in  question  had  already  been  given  a permanent  place 
in  the  Gospel  of  his  predecessor.  But  we  may  be  pretty  sure  that  if  he  had  found 
similar  matter  of  equally  doubtful  authenticity,  clothed  in  a Semitic  dress  and  other- 
wise harmonious  with  his  own  idea  of  the  character  of  the  Messiah,  which  had  not 
been  given  a place  in  one  of  the  standard  collections,  he  would  have  felt  it  to  be  his 
duty  to  incorporate  it  in  his  own  work. 


308  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


In  the  sections  where  Mark  is  used,  or  where  portions  of 
Q already  adopted  by  Matthew  are  incorporated,  and  it  is 
therefore  possible  to  mark  off  clearly  the  portions  of  the  text 
which  belong  only  to  the  Third  Gospel,  it  is  not  always  easy 
to  decide  what  part,  if  any,  of  the  new  matter  is  the  property 
of  the  evangelist  himself.  The  question  of  translation  must 
also  frequently  be  taken  into  account,  for  not  a few  of  the 
passages  which  have  only  the  significance  of  introductory 
formulae  or  slight  expansions,  and  might  therefore  most 
naturally  be  regarded  as  additions  freely  made  by  Luke 
himself,  are  such  glaring  specimens  of  translation-Greek  as 
to  give  us  pause.  To  take  at  random  the  first  instance 
which  presents  itself : In  Luke  v.  17  ff.  the  story  of  the 
paralytic  is  introduced  in  these  words  : /cal  iyevero  iv  pua, 
tmv  rjpbeparv  /cal  avro<i  rjv  8i8daK(ov,  /cal  rjcrav  /caQrjpevoL  Qapicraloi 
/cal  vop,o8i8acricaXoL  o'i  rjcrav  eXrjXvOdres  etc  rrdarj ? /cewg?;?  tt)?  TaAt- 
Aata?  teal  ’IouSata?  /cal  ' lepovcraXrjp, • /cal  8vvajus  K vpLov  rjv  eh  to 
iacrdaL  avrov.  /cal  l8ov  av8pes  cfre'pov tc?  errl  /cXivrj<i  avOpcorrov  o?  rjv 
rrapaXeXvjievo^,  /cal  e^rjrovv  avrov  elcrevey/celv  /cal  delvai  avrov  evco- 
7 nov  avrov.  /cal  p,rj  ei/povres  7rota?  elaevey/ccoaLV  avrov , k.t.X. 
Nearly  every  word  of  this  is  peculiar  to  the  Third  Gospel ; 
moreover,  there  are  here  a few  phrases  and  constructions 
which  at  once  remind  us  of  Luke.  The  Semitic  idioms  are 
evident  enough,  still,  it  is  conceivable  that  idioms  of  this 
nature,  such  as  /cal  i8ov  and  evw>mov  avrov,  should  have  been 
adopted  by  a Greek  author  in  his  own  editorial  additions 
to  narrative  already  rendered  into  the  translator’s  jargon. 
But  to  this  must  be  added  at  once  that  the  Semitisms  are 
too  numerous,  and  in  many  passages  too  awkward,  to  make 
the  explanation  a plausible  one.  They  are  merely  obtru- 
sive, not  at  all  necessary.  Employed  as  they  are,  there  is 
no  point  of  view  from  which  they  can  be  called  a credit  to 
the  author  of  the  Third  Gospel,  if  he  originated  them,  and 
they  might  easily  arouse  the  suspicion  that  he  wished  to 
make  his  own  additions  appear  to  come  from  Semitic  docu- 
ments. It  is  not  simply  in  the  padding  and  patching  of 
the  Gospel  that  they  appear  in  Luke’s  handwriting,  as  it 
were ; they  are  equally  noticeable  in  the  large  blocks  of 
narrative  which  he  has  taken  over  from  sources  unknown 
to  us.  Thus  at  the  beginning  of  chapter  19  : Kai  elcreXBcbv 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


309 


Sir/p^ero  t rjv  ’I epetyrn.  /cal  18ov  avgp  ovopaTi  /caXovpevos  Za/c^alo1?^ 
/cal  avros  r)V  ap'^LTeXcovryi  /cal  auTO?  TrXovcnos.  /cal  e’£?/Tet  i8elv  t ov 
’Irjaovv  Tt?  iarTLV , /cal  ov/c  r/8vvaTO  cnro  t ov  o%Xov  oti  tt)  rfXucia,  puc- 
pos  rjv.  /cal  Trpohpap.Gov  eis  to  epirpocrdev  ave(3rj  irrl  av/copopeav 
iva  c8rj  avTOV,  oti  €/cei'vg<;  rjpeXXev  8iep)^eadai.  Here  is  the  same 
writer  again ; compare,  e.g.,  the  i/ceiv^ ; (0S0O)  with  the 
woia?  of  v.  19.  There  is  also  the  same  heaping  of  Semitic 
idioms,  and  this  time,  at  least,  it  ought  to  be  evident  that 
Luke  is  not  responsible  for  them.  Such  gratuitous  mon- 
strosities as  the  repetition  of  /cal  auroV  and  the  use  of  avo  before 
t ov  o%Aoe,  for  instance,  would  be  either  intolerable  mockery 
or  something  worse,  coming  from  a writer  of  known  skill 
and  taste.  Luke  is  translating ; there  is  no  other  theory 
equally  plausible.  He  has  done  throughout  his  whole  Gospel 
what  we  found  him  doing  in  the  first  two  chapters.  It  was 
his  purpose  to  base  all  his  work  on  “authentic”  original 
documents.  He  searched  out  the  native  ( i.e . Semitic)  ma- 
terial,26 and  translated  the  greater  part  of  it  himself.  In 
his  renderings  of  the  new  material  he  seems  usually  to  have 
followed  the  original  quite  closely,  though  he  may  have  used 
to  some  extent  translations  made  by  others  who  are  unknown 
to  us. 

His  mode  of  procedure  in  dealing  with  the  material  al- 
ready incorporated  by  Matthew  is  well  illustrated  in  the 
Lord’s  Prayer,  xi.  2-4  (Matt.  vi.  9-13).  Matthew  had  given 
this  in  what  was  plainly  an  expanded  form.  Luke’s  Aramaic 
text  had  the  older  form,  something  like  the  following : 

^att  uHprr 
T xnxn 

an  xTin  wan*? 
w'ain  wb  patfi 
xrnrtb  Tpa#  ^ 

WdjS  wbsn  vb\ 

T V T “ T 

In  rendering  this,  Luke  retained  almost  everywhere  the  words 
of  the  Greek  Matthew : 

26  Especially  after  the  work  of  Mark  and  Matthew,  only  Semitic  documents  could 
claim  to  embody  the  old  tradition.  Of  course  all  the  educated  knew  perfectly 
well  that  the  Greek  of  those  two  Gospels  was  translation-Greek. 


310  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

Uarep,  ayiaadr/Tco  to  ovofia  aov 
iXOaru)  rj  /3aaiXeia  aov  • 

top  dprov  ppuwv  [t ov  iarLovaiov ] hlhov  r)p,lv  to  kcl6'  r/piepav 
Kal  defies  rj/ilv  tcis  dpeapTias  rjfiorp, 

Kai  yap  avTol  dcfiiopeev  i ravTi  ocfielXovTi  fipuv 
Kal  firj  eiaeveyKys  rjpids  els  Treipaapiov. 

A part  of  the  wording  is  Luke’s  own,  however,  and  that,  too, 
in  places  where  alteration  was  not  necessary.  (This,  of 
itself,  would  be  fairly  good  evidence  of  translation,  for  the 
evangelist  would  hardly  have  substituted  his  own  words  for 
traditional  ones,  needlessly,  in  such  an  important  formula 
as  this.)  Plummer  remarks,  in  his  Commentary,  that  the 
Kal  axnoi  and  the  iravTi  are  both  characteristic  of  Luke. 
rA peapTias  (for  ocfieiXrjpiaTa ) may  well  be  his  own  improve- 
ment, though  it  is  possible  that  his  Aramaic  text  had  xrxion, 
or  some  other  synonym.  The  to  Kad'  rjpiepav  also  belongs 
to  Luke ; see  Plummer.  This  time,  however,  the  variation 
is  a much  more  important  one,  for  the  phrase  is  obviously 
a rendering  of  the  same  Aramaic  word  which  in  Matthew 
is  translated  by  top  iiriovaiop.  I cannot  believe  for  a 
moment  that  top  emovaiov  originally  stood  in  the  Greek 
text  of  Luke ; on  the  contrary,  it  was  inserted  there  from 
Matthew’s  Gospel.  What  Luke  had  before  him,  and  ren- 
dered, was  simply  : ‘Give  us  our  bread  day  by  day.’  I have 
conjectured  the  original  as  XTin,  ‘continual.’  This  seems 
all  the  more  plausible  because  of  the  passage  2 Kings  xxv. 
29  f.  as  rendered  in  the  Targum : ’’Pllttlp  NTHD  SEPlS  S3X1 

xdSs  Dip  p rb  saimia  smn  niTrc  nniT^i  Trm  ’ttY’  bD 
VTPn  'Dr  bD  ,W3  nr  Dans,  ‘And  he  (Jehoiachin)  ate  bread 
before  him  continually  all  the  days  of  his  life.  And  as  for 
his  allowance,  there  was  a continual  allowance  given  him  by 
the  king,  every  day  a portion,  all  the  days  of  his  life.’  ’E7ri- 
ovaios  (as  an  adjective  derived  from  imepai)  would  be  a 
not  unskilful  way  of  rendering  this  XTHD,  the  proper 
meaning  of  which  is  ‘ recurring ,’  ‘returning  in  constant  suc- 
cession,’ and  the  like.  Such  words  as  ip&eXex and  SiairaPTos 
would  not  do  as  well,  for  the  translator  did  not  wish  to 
make  the  petition  call  for  ‘ perpetual  ’ bread,  but  only  for 
bread  given  at  constant  intervals,  i.e.  day  after  day.  If  the 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


311 


Aramaic  adjective  had  been  as  in  the  Old  Syriac,  the 

translator  would  have  rendered  by  some  other  and  more 
familiar  Greek  word,  for  he  would  have  been  allowed  a 
rather  wide  choice ; the  word  KT"in  kept  him  within 
narrow  limits.  The  meaning  is,  then,  ‘Give  us  the  bread 
for  our  constantly  ( i.e . daily)  recurring  need.’  The  transla- 
tion in  Matthew,  ‘Give  us  our  ever-returning  bread,’  is  a very 
close  one ; Luke’s  ‘ Give  us  our  daily  bread  ’ is  a little  more 
free,  but  a better  rendering  nevertheless.  His  text  originally 
had  simply  this  : rov  apTOv  rjpwv  SiSov  rjp.lv  to  /cad'  rjpepav,  but 
no  harmonizer  of  the  Greek  Gospels  could  permit  the  un- 
usual and  interesting  tov  e7novcnov  to  be  left  out  in  this  way  ! 
If  the  word  stood  here  in  the  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews, 
we  then  have  excellent  evidence  that  that  Gospel  was  trans- 
lated from  the  Greek.  “)JT2  could  not  possibly  have  stood 
in  the  original,  but  would  have  been  a most  natural  transla- 
tion of  eVioucrio?,  making  immediate  connection  with  the 
phrase  rj  emovaa  ( rjpepa ).  As  for  Matthew’s  crrjpepov,  it  was 
doubtless  present  in  the  Aramaic  text  of  the  First  Gospel, 
but  was  a part  of  the  expansion  which  the  whole  prayer 
has  received  there. 

Added  to  all  the  uncertainty  of  translation,  redaction, 
occasional  correction  and  conflation,  and  the  like,  is  that 
which  is  due  to  careless  transmission  of  the  text  by  copyists. 
Our  tradition  has  not  been  infallible,  and  even  readings 
which  are  fully  attested  may  be  wrong.  I have  no  more 
doubt,  for  instance,  that  in  Mark  xii.  4 iKetyaXiaxrav  should 
be  itco\a(f)iaav  27  than  I have  that  in  1 Macc.  V.  25  cnrrjVTrjcrav 
should  be  ycnrdaavTo  (cf.  vii.  29,  33 ; Exod.  xviii.  7 ; Judg. 
xviii.  15),  or  that  in  1 Macc.  xi.  23  iiceXevaev  should  be  /care- 
\vaev,  or  that  KaOapwv  in  Judith  x.  5 should  be  tcpidlvcov  (cf. 
Judg.  vii.  13;  2 Kings  iv.  42,  etc.),  though  in  all  of  these 
cases  the  manuscript  attestation  is  complete,  and  we  no 
longer  have  the  original  to  compare.  In  John  viii.  25, 
instead  of  the  impossible  ryv  ap^yv  oti  ical  \a\a>  vplv ; the 
original  reading  must  have  been  ttjv  ap%rjv  en  real  \a\a i vplv, 
“I  am  still  only  in  the  very  beginning  of  what  I have  to 

27  The  first  step  in  the  corruption  was  probably  the  careless  writing  €Ko<pa\i<rav, 
whence  the  rest  followed  naturally. 


312  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

say  to  you,”  a reading  which  both  suits  the  sense  of  the 
whole  passage  and  also  resembles  the  language  used  in 
other  parts  of  the  Fourth  Gospel.  In  Hebrews  xi.  37  we 
have  a conflate  text  — though  here,  again,  the  manuscript 
support  is  unimpeachable.  The  word  eireLpdaOrjaav , which 
is  quite  out  of  place  here  (miserably  weak,  coming  between 
“sawn  asunder”  and  “slain  with  the  sword”  !),  is  merely 
an  old  variant  reading  of  inpiadriaav  (written  eTTpeurOrjaav). 
It  is  not  likely,  indeed,  that  there  are  many  instances  of  this 
sort  in  our  Gospels ; still,  whoever  wishes  to  argue  from 
variant  Greek  readings  to  diverse  translations  must  always 
bear  in  mind  the  possibility  of  a faulty  traditional  text.28 
Generally  speaking,  there  is  no  kind  of  textual  criticism  so 
precarious  as  argument  from  translation,  even  where  the 
text  cannot  be  doubted.  The  varying  forms  of  the  same 
tradition  are  usually  due  to  free  reproduction  in  which  the 
important  thing  was  felt  to  be  the  substance  of  the  nar- 
rative or  discourse,  not  the  form  of  words.  The  character 
of  these  variants  has  been  admirably  summarized  by  Well- 
hausen  in  his  Einleitung,  2d  ed.,  p.  3. 


I give  in  the  following  a few  more  specimens  of  passages, 
taken  chiefly  from  the  Third  Gospel,  in  which  the  hypothesis 
of  awkward  or  faulty  translation  seems  to  be  the  best  way  of 
explaining  our  Greek  text. 

Luke  xi.  39-41  (Matt,  xxiii.  25  f.).  — The  passage  in  which 
the  Pharisees  are  said  to  “cleanse  the  outside  of  the  cup 
and  platter.”  As  is  well  known,  Wellhausen  has  proposed 
to  explain  the  difference  here  between  Matthew  and  Luke 
by  supposing  that  the  former  rendered  ‘'?1,  ‘cleanse,’ 
while  the  latter  rendered  ^f,  ‘give  alms’  (Das  Evangelium 
Lucae,  p.  61).  Aside  from  the  improbability  of  such  a use 
of  *3j  in  the  time  of  the  evangelists,  it  seems  to  me  that  there 
is  an  easier  way  of  accounting  for  the  variation.  As  for  the 
Aramaic  usage  supposed  by  Wellhausen  : In  Jewish  litera- 
ture the  noun  lDf,  KfYDJ  means  ‘righteousness,  purity,’ 
and  the  like;  no  example  of  its  use  to  mean  ‘almsgiving’ 

28  Resch,  in  his  Logia  Jesu,  21,  26,  made  Mark's  iKecpaMuaa v a variant  rendering 
of  win. 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


313 


or  ‘alms’  has  ever  been  found,  so  far  as  I am  aware.  The 
verb  ,’3|  means  ‘make  pure,  regard  as  righteous,’  and  the 
like;  never  ‘give  alms.’  The  word  for  ‘righteousness’ 
which  also  means  ‘alms’  is  KplSC;  the  only  evidence  that 
was  ever  used  in  a similar  way  is  the  fact  that  in  the 
Koran  and  subsequent  Mohammedan  literature  and  usage 
the  word  zakat  (pretty  certainly  borrowed  from  the  Jews) 
is  the  technical  term  for  the  alms  prescribed  by  law,  whence 
it  is  reasonable  to  conclude  that  there  was  some  such  Jewish 
usage  in  Arabia  in  the  time  of  Mohammed.  As  Siegmund 
Fraenkel  expresses  it,  in  his  De  Vocabulis  in  antiquis  Arabum 
Carminibus  et  in  Corano  peregrinis,  p.  23  : “ HOf  quidem 
in  scrip tis  Iudaicis  ‘meriti’  tantum  sensu  invenitur,  . . . 
sed  fortasse  Iudsei  Arabici  m3}  sensu  eleemosynarum  adhi- 
buerunt.”  A student  of  Mohammedan  literature  would  at 
once  think  of  ‘almsgiving’  when  he  saw  the  verb  but 
it  is  unlikely,  to  say  the  least,  that  it  could  have  suggested 
such  an  idea  to  Luke. 

The  verbal  form  of  the  tradition  in  the  one  Gospel  differs 
so  much  from  its  form  in  the  other  that  it  is  better  not  to 
try  to  make  them  fit  each  other  closely.  It  is  not  necessary 
to  suppose  that  the  verb  in  the  first  clause  of  Luke  xi.  41 
meant  ‘cleanse.’  On  the  contrary,  verse  41  is  the  counter- 
part of  verse  39 ; there,  the  first  clause  referred  to  cleansing 
and  the  second  to  unrighteousness ; here,  the  two  ideas  are 
repeated  in  reverse  order.  There,  he  had  said:  “Your 
inner  part  is  full  of  unrighteousness” ; here,  “That  which  is 
within  make  righteous ,”  X71.  Nothing  could 

be  more  natural  than  to  render  this  by  ra  ivovra  Sore  iXeqpo- 
avvrjv,  since  Xp“Tl£  1“Q3J  is  the  regular  idiom  for  “give  alms,” 
the  very  one  which  is  used  in  Matt.  vi.  1-4  (BucaLoavvqv 
7 roielv),  for  instance,  and  of  which  a host  of  examples  could 
be  given.29 

xi.  47  ff.  (Matt,  xxiii.  29-33). — The  Greek  text  has: 
47  oval  vpZv,  on  OLKoBopelTe  ra  pLvqpela  twv  irpochqTwv,  oi  Be  rrarepes 
vpiwv  cnrenreLvav  avrovs.  48  apa  pap  ropes  eare  Kal  avvevBoKelre  rols 
epyois  tcov  rrarepwv  vp>cov  • oti  avrol  p,ev  aireicTeLvav  acToy?,  vpels  Be 

29  I may  add,  as  an  example  of  coincident  conjecture,  that  I came  upon  this 
explanation  of  the  passage  quite  independently  of  Wellhausen. 


314  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 


oltcoSo/jLeiTe.  This  last  clause  contains  the  proof  of  the  fact 
that  these  Jews  were  not  guiltless  of  the  blood  of  the  proph- 
ets : “ Because  they  slew  them,  and  ye  build.”  But  this  is  no 
“proof  ” at  all ; so  far  as  it  could  have  any  significance  in  this 
connection,  it  might  rather  be  an  indication  of  a repentant 
generation.  In  Matthew,  it  is  all  clear:  “Ye  say:  If  we 
had  been  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  we  should  not  have  been 
partakers  with  them  in  the  blood  of  the  prophets.  Where- 
fore ye  witness  in  regard  to  yourselves  that  ye  are  the  sons  of 
them  that  slew  the  prophets ; and  ye  will  fill  up  the  measure 
of  your  fathers.  Serpents,  offspring  of  serpents ,”  etc.  The 
verses  immediately  following,  in  Luke  as  well  as  in  Matthew, 
proceed  in  the  same  strain,  saying  that  the  children  had  been 
like  the  fathers  all  the  way  from  Cain  down  to  the  present 
generation.  The  original  in  Luke  at  the  end  of  verse  48 
was  certainly  P'"1-  P??  P^Kl,  ‘and  ye  are  children  of  theirs .’ 
The  translator  (Luke  himself  ?)  of  course  thought  of  p3? 
the  participle,  since  he  had  just  had  the  very  same  form 
in  the  preceding  verse,  and  48b  seemed  to  be  repeating 
the  two  clauses  of  47  in  reverse  order.  The  pnS,  which 
thus  became  the  direct  object,  was  of  course  omitted  in 
translating,  as  it  was  not  needed  and  could  not  have  been 
rendered  without  awkwardness. 

xii.  46  (Matt.  xxiv.  51).  — “But  if  that  servant  shall  say 
in  his  heart,  My  lord  delayeth  his  coming ; and  shall  begin 
to  beat  the  menservants  and  the  maidservants,  and  to  eat 
and  drink,  and  to  be  drunken ; the  lord  of  that  servant  will 
come  in  a day  when  he  expecteth  not,  and  in  an  hour  when 
he  knoweth  not,  and  will  cut  him  in  two,  and  appoint  his  por- 
tion with  the  unfaithful  (/cat  StyoTOg?;crei  avrov  teal  to  p-epos 
avTov  per  a tcov  cnrio-Toov  Orjaei).''  Two  things  strike  the  reader 
at  once : First,  this  is  a singularly  disproportionate  punish- 
ment for  a kind  of  mismanagement  to  which  servants  left 
to  themselves  have  always  and  everywhere  been  especially 
prone,  and  for  which  dismissal  in  disgrace  is  generally  re- 
garded as  an  adequate  penalty ; second,  after  the  man  had 
been  “split  in  two”  it  could  make  no  difference  to  him 
with  whom  his  portion  was  appointed.  I believe  that  we 
may  see  here  a very  ancient  error  in  the  underlying  Ara- 
maic text,  which  is  rendered  in  the  same  way  by  both  Luke 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


315 


and  Matthew.  A t^oropyaei  of  course  translates  the  verb 
jSs.  The  original  text  was : DV  nWD  n^S1!,  ‘ and 

will  divide  him  his  portion  with  the  unfaithful.’  30  By  a 
very  natural  bit  of  carelessness  (supposing  the  first  suffix 
to  be  direct  object  rather  than  indirect)  the  conjunction  1 
was  put  before  nD3ft.  This  once  done  could  never  be  un- 
done, and  the  addition  of  the  verb  at  the  end  of  the 
clause  was  immediately  necessary  : 31  fcfHptP  □>'  HD3ID1  n3jbs’’l 
* and  will  divide  him,  and  his  portion  with  the  unfaith- 
ful ( will  appoint)’ 

xii.  49  f.  — II vp  rfkOov  fiaXelv  ek  rrjv  yyv,  Kal  T'-  de\co  el  rjBy 
avi](f)0T] ; fia'ir'na iia  Be  ey<w  ftairTicrdfivcu,  ical  i rco?  avveypyai  ecu? 
otov  TeXeady.  ‘I  came  to  cast  fire  upon  the  earth,  and  what 
will  1 if  it  is  already  kindled?  I have  a baptism  to  be  bap- 
tised with,  and  how  am  I straitened  till  it  be  accomplished  ! ’ 
I have  given  the  second  clause  of  verse  49  in  the  words  of 
the  English  Revised  Version.  The  rendering  is  nonsense, 
to  be  sure,  but  it  at  least  has  the  merit  of  following  the 
text.  Many  interpreters,  including  some  of  the  foremost  of 
the  Germans,  have  rendered  according  to  the  sense : ‘ How 
I wish  that  it  were  already  kindled  ! ’ but  this,  as  Plummer 
fairly  objects,  “does  rather  serious  violence  to  the  Greek.” 
Turning  the  Greek  back,  word  by  word,  into  Aramaic,  we 
have : npSn  its  jd  iux  tox  nai.  But  whoever  has 
before  him  this  Aramaic,  not  feeling  obliged  to  render 
word  for  word,  but  rather  to  give  the  sense,  can  only  trans- 
late it:  ‘And  how  I wish  that  it  were  already  kindled!’ 
The  idiom  is  the  regular  one  in  Aramaic.  We  are  given 
in  Luke  a too  literal  rendering  — though  any  ancient  trans- 
lator would  have  been  likely  to  render  in  just  this  way. 

xxiii.  54.  — Ken  ryiepa  yv  Trapaaicevys,  ical  adfiftaTOV  eirefycocncev. 
‘Now  it  was  the  Day  of  Preparation,  and  the  next  day  was 
the  Sabbath.’  The  same  idiom  which  has  already  been 
mentioned,  above,  in  interpreting  Matt,  xxviii.  1.  Moore,  in 
the  Journal  of  the  American  Oriental  Society,  26.  328  f.. 


30  The  idiom  is  perfectly  regular;  cf.,  for  example,  the  Syr.  renderings  in  Is.  liii. 
12;  Jer.  xxxvii.  12,  etc. 

31  This  word  is  regularly  used  to  mean  both  ‘faithless’  (Luke,  AwIittuv)  and 
‘hypocrite’  (Matt.,  vttokpit&v) . 


316  TRANSLATIONS  MADE  FROM  ARAMAIC  GOSPELS 

showed  that  the  original  of  Luke’s  phrase  was  something 
like  : Kmw  ML  xrOMin  KtoV  .71.71.  I have  noticed  the  very 
same  phrase  in  the  Syriac  Chronicle  of  Joshua  the  Stylite, 
p.  22,  line  9 : KTQIP  TUB  KTOnn  Kfcl’  M1JTX,  where  Wright 
translates  : ‘It  was  the  night  between  Friday  and  Saturday.’ 
In  the  evangelist’s  narrative,  the  hour  is  not  stated  ; we  only 
know  that  it  was  the  time  when  the  sixth  day  was  passing 
over  into  the  Sabbath.  Any  Aramaic  text  would  have  used 
here  the  word  HL,  “dawn,”  but  no  Greek  writer  would  ever 
in  this  place  have  written  eirecpcoa-Kev  unless  he  were  trans- 
lating the  Semitic  word  which  actually  lay  before  him  in  a 
document.  Luke  is  using  either  the  Aramaic  Mark  or  a nar- 
rative based  upon  it ; the  6 £cttlv  irpoadfifiaTov  of  Mark  xv. 
42  is  another  very  natural,  but  less  accurate,  rendering  of 

xnntr  ml. 

xxiv.  32.  — Oeyt  g /capSia  gpwv  tcaiogevg  gv  ; “Did  not 
our  heart  burn?”  The  hypothesis  of  an  original  Aramaic 
“lp\  instead  of  has  long  seemed  to  me  the  most  satis- 
factory interpretation  : “Was  not  our  mind  [2^  is  the  under- 
standing] sloiv  to  comprehend ?”  Wellhausen’s  LMCH  Y"l223, 
Das  Evangelium  Lucae,  139,  seems  to  me  much  too  remote 
to  be  compared  here.  Neither  the  Hebrew  verb  nor  any 
likely  Aramaic  equivalent  of  it  could  possibly  have  been 
rendered  by  Kalogai,  and  pECM  (the  same  word  in  Aramaic 
as  in  Hebrew)  would  probably  have  been  translated  by 
<j7rXdfyym,  certainly  not  by  tcapbia.  I do  not  think,  how- 
ever, that  we  have  a particle  of  external  evidence  of  the 
original  Aramaic  reading  “lp\  Every  one  of  the  readings 
of  our  versions  is  probably  derived,  directly  or  indirectly, 
from  Kcuogevg,  the  variations  being  due  partly  to  corruption 
of  the  Greek  and  partly  to  guessing  what  ought  to  have  been 
the  reading.  The  corruption  and  the  guesswork  are  impor- 
tant, as  showing  that  the  idiom  was  as  unsatisfactory  in 
Greek  as  it  was  in  Semitic  (witness  the  Syriac,  where  not 
only  the  Lewis  text,  but  also  the  Curetonian  and  Peshitto, 
both  of  which  have  been  extensively  conformed  to  the  stand- 
ard Greek,  have  the  reading  ‘heavy’).  It  is  obvious 
enough,  in  any  case,  that  this  whole  chapter  is  translated. 

Numerous  other  indications  of  translation  ip  the  Third 
Gospel  which  I had  noted  in  my  own  reading,  and  which 


CHARLES  C.  TORREY 


317 


were  included  in  this  essay  as  originally  presented,32  have 
now  been  pointed  out  by  Wellhausen  in  his  Introduction  and 
Commentaries,  so  that  I need  not  include  them.  One  of 
these  to  which  attention  may  especially  be  called  is  the 
cnro  /Mas,  ‘at  once,’  of  xiv.  18.  It  is  a too  literal  rendering 
of  j£,  and  occurs  in  a section  of  the  parable  (verses  18- 
24 ) which  is  found  only  in  Luke,  and  can  hardly  have  been 
known  to  Matthew.  In  general,  the  evidence  is  striking  that 
where  Luke  goes  his  own  way  he  is  usually  closely  follow- 
ing written  documents,  mostly  Aramaic. 

In  Mark  xiv.  3,  Matt.  xxvi.  6,  may  it  not  be  that  ‘Simon 
the  leper  ’ (#3*13)  33  was  originally  intended  to  be  ‘ Simon 
the  jar-maker’  ? I dc>  not  know  that  the  latter 

word  has  been  found  anywhere ; still,  no  object  was  more 
familiar  in  Palestine  than  the  water  jar,  or  wine  jar, 
and  the  term  used  to  designate  the  man  who  made  or  sold 
such  jars  can  only  have  been 

32  It  was  read  before  the  Semitic  Club  of  Yale  University,  January  13,  1904; 
and  before  the  Society  of  Biblical  Literature,  in  New  York  City,  in  December,  1906. 
As  originally  written  and  presented,  it  contained  all  the  essential  features  of  its 
present  form,  including  all  of  the  suggested  emendations  excepting  the  one  con- 
cerning ‘Simon  the  leper.’ 

33  The  word  used,  for  example,  in  the  Palestinian  Syriac  version  in  these  passages. 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


Clifford  Herschel  Moore 

Harvard  University 

As  Livy  remarks,  the  provinces  of  Spain  were  the  first  to 
be  acquired  by  the  Romans  on  the  continent  of  Europe  and 
the  last  to  be  thoroughly  subdued.1  Yet  under  the  republic 
the  Romanization  of  these  provinces  had  advanced  far. 
Carteia  in  the  south  was  the  first  Latin  colony  outside  of 
Italy  ; 2 Gades,  the  oldest  Phoenician  settlement  in  the  penin- 
sula, was  the  first  foreign  city  to  adopt  the  law  and  language 
of  the  conquerors,  and  was  so  fully  Romanized  by  Augustus’s 
day  that  the  census  showed  five  hundred  knights  resident 
there,  a larger  number  than  was  to  be  found  in  any  provincial 
town  of  Italy  except  Patavium,  according  to  Strabo.3  Under 
Julius  Caesar  and  Augustus  many  Spanish  communities 
received  full  Roman  citizenship.  These  towns,  moreover, 
were  not  wholly  confined  to  the  coast,  but  many  were  sit- 
uated in  the  interior  parts  of  the  peninsula,  especially  in 
Baetica,  where  Corduba,  Hispalis,  and  Urso  were  undoubtedly 
important  centres  of  Roman  culture  long  before  they  were 
made  Roman  colonies  in  the  years  46-44  b.c.  ; the  interior 
of  Tarraconensis,  however,  especially  that  area  now  repre- 
sented by  New  Castile  and  a considerable  part  of  Old  Castile, 
together  with  the  modern  provinces  of  Salamanca  and  Ca- 
ceres,  was  not  occupied  by  any  town  with  full  Roman  rights. 
In  the  valley  of  the  Iberus,  Csesaraugusta,  the  modern  Sar- 
agossa in  the  province  of  the  same  name,  occupied  a some- 
what advanced  position ; 4 while  in  Lusitania,  Augusta 
Emerita,  now  Merida  in  the  province  of  Badajos,  founded 
in  25  b.c.,  exerted  a strong  influence.5  But  the  northwestern 
quarter  of  the  peninsula  long  resisted  the  Roman  arms,  so 
that  the  conquest  was  only  completed  by  Agrippa’s  successes 

1 xxviii.  12.  12.  2 Livy,  xliii.  3.  1-4.  3 iii.  p.  169. 

4 Pliny,  Naturalis  Historia,  iii.  24;  Strabo,  iii.  p.  151. 

5 Pliny,  Naturalis  Historia,  iv.  117 ; Strabo,  iii.  pp.  151,  166. 

319 


320 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


over  the  Asturi  and  Cantabri  in  19  b.c.6  Troops,  however, 
were  continually  stationed  in  Spain  throughout  the  Roman 
domination,  the  forces  varying  from  the  three  legions  under 
Tiberius  7 to  a single  legion  under  Marcus  Aurelius  8 and  the 
five  recorded  in  the  Notit  ia  Dignitatum  at  the  beginning  of 
the  fifth  century.9 

The  process  of  Romanization  had  advanced  in  Strabo’s 
day  to  such  an  extent  that  a considerable  part  of  the  inhab- 
itants of  Roetica  had  adopted  Roman  customs  and  had  for- 
gotten their  own  language  so,  that  they  hardly  differed  from 
the  Romans  themselves.10  The  Latin  poets  of  Corduba 
might  offend  the  ears  of  Cicero,11  but  two  generations  after 
his  day,  Spain  had  begun  to  contribute  that  long  list  of 
writers  who  made  the  first  century  of  the  empire  the  Spanish 
age  in  Latin  literature.  The  building  of  roads,  the  further 
establishment  of  Roman  towns,  service  in  the  army,  the  cult 
of  Rome  and  the  emperors,  all  continued  the  spread  of  Roman 
civilization.  The  elder  Pliny  in  his  Natural  History  12  re- 
cords a total  of  fifty  towns  possessing  full  Roman  rights  and 
forty-eight  having  the  ius  Latii,  which  was  extended  by  Ves- 
pasian in  75  a.d.  to  all  free  inhabitants  who  had  not  pre- 
viously obtained  it.13 

This  early  and  extensive  Romanization  of  the  Spanish 
provinces  had  its  effect  on  the  religious  history  of  their 
inhabitants.  Throughout  Roetica  and  much  of  Tarraconensis 
no  evidence  of  the  worship  of  the  native  Iberian  or  Celtic 
divinities  appears,  although  in  the  remoter  districts  to  the 
west  and  north  dedications  to  these  gods  are  numerous. 
Nowhere  in  the  empire  was  the  cult  of  the  capital  city  and 
the  imperial  house  better  organized  and  more  assiduously  car- 
ried on  than  in  Spain,  being  indeed  one  of  the  chief  agencies 
of  Roman  influence,  as  the  inscriptions  abundantly  attest.14 

6 Horace,  Odes,  ii.  6.  2,  11.  1;  iii.  8.  21  f. ; iv.  14.  41;  Dio  Cass.,  liv.  11. 

7 Tacitus,  Annals,  iv.  5,  referring  to  23  a.d.  ; cf.  Strabo,  iii.  p.  166. 

8 Corpus  Inscriptionum  Latinarum,  6.  3492  a,  b. 

9 Not.  Dig.  Occ.,  vii.  p.  138  S.  10  Strabo,  iii.  p.  151. 

11  Pro  Archia,  26.  12  iii.  7-30;  iv.  117-118. 

13  Pliny,  Naturalis  Historia,  iii.  30 ; Corpus,  2.  1049,  1050. 

14  Cf.  Ciccotti,  I Sacerdoti  Municipali  e Provinciali  della  Spagna,  etc.,  Annali 
dell’  Instituto,  38.  (1890)  pp.  28-77 ; G.  C.  Fiske,  Notes  on  the  Worship  of  the  Ro- 
man Emperors  in  Spain,  Harvard  Studies  in  Classical  Philology,  11.  (1900)  pp. 
101-139. 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


321 


When  we  examine  the  evidences  for  the  worship  of  the 
oriental  gods  in  Spain,  as  I propose  to  do  in  this  paper,  we 
again  see  the  condition  of  the  country  reflected  in  the  dedi- 
cations extant.  In  spite  of  the  military  occupation,  the 
special  gods  of  the  soldiers,  like  Iupiter  Optimus  Maximus 
Dolichenus,  for  example,  do  not  appear,  and  out  of  the  entire 
list  of  those  who  set  up  dedications  to  the  several  divinities, 
only  four  are  soldiers,  and  of  these  three  were  high  officials,  all 
devotees  of  the  Mithraic  religion.15  Nor  can  we  detect  the 
course  by  which  these  religions  entered  Spain  and  were  there 
spread,  as  we  can,  for  example,  in  the  case  of  the  taurobolium 
at  Lyons,  where  L.  /Emilius  Carpus  declares  that  he  brought 
the  rite  from  the  shrine  near  the  mons  Vaticanus  in  Rome  — - 
vires  excepit  et  a Vaticano  transtulit.16  Again,  at  Nemau- 
sus  in  Gaul  a devotee  of  I.  O.  M.  Heliopolitanus  writes 
himself  down  domo  Beryto,  having  doubtless  remained  faith- 
ful to  the  divinity  of  his  native  land  throughout  his  military 
service.  In  Spain  we  have  nothing  of  this  sort ; but  never- 
theless we  can  be  sure  that  the  army,  traders,  and  slaves 
did  their  work  here  as  in  other  parts  of  the  empire. 

The  question  arises  at  the  outset  of  our  investigation 
whether  the  Phoenician  and  Carthaginian  occupation  of  the 
coast  left  any  traces  in  matters  of  religion ; for  although  the 
power  of  Carthage  was  broken  before  206  b.c.,  her  influence 
must  have  continued  long,  even  if  its  evidences  are  not  so 
clearly  detected  as  those  left  by  later  invaders.  In  only 
three  cases  at  the  most  can  we  say  with  any  degree  of  cer- 
tainty that  we  are  dealing  with  gods  of  Carthaginian  origin  : 
these  are  Hercules  (Gaditanus),  Dea  Caelestis,  and  Iupiter 
Ammon.  Gades  was  the  most  ancient  and  prosperous  colony 
of  the  Tyrians;  here  they  established  the  worship  of  their 
great  god  Melcarth,  who  was  denominated  by  the  Greeks  and 
Romans  Hercules  Tyrius  (Corpus  Inscript.  Lat.  7.  p.  97  b).17 
His  temple  at  Gades  was  famous,18  and  the  Phoenician  coins 
of  this  city  bear  the  head  of  Melcarth,  as  that  of  Hercules  is 
figured  on  the  coins  of  the  Roman  period.19  No  dedication  to 

15  Cf.  pp.  333  ff.  16  Corpus,  13.  1751. 

17  On  a statue  at  Rome  ante  aditum  porticus  ad  nationes,  see  Pliny,  Naturalis 
Historia,  xxxvi.  39. 

18  Silius  Italieus,  Pun.  iii.  14-20 ; Philostratus,  Vita  Apollonii,  v.  5. 

19  Eckhel,  Doctrina  Nummorum,  1.  pp.  19-22 ; 6.  p.  504. 


322 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


the  god  has  been  found  among  the  few  inscriptions  of  Gades 
itself,  but  he  appears  as  Hercules  Gaditanus  at  Carthago 
Nova  in  one  inscription,20  2.  3409 : [H]ercul[i]  | Gaditajno]  | 
L.  Avi(us)  L.  l(ibertus)  Anti[pho]  | et  A.  Avius  Ecl[ectus]  j 
v.  s.  1.  m.  His  cult  is  also  attested  by  2.  1929  from  Carteia  : 
Q.  Cornelio  . . . i | [f(ilio)]  Gal(eria)  Senecioni  | Anniano, 
co(n)s(uli),  proco(n)s(uli)  Ponti  et  Bit[h]yniae,  | curatori  viae 
Appiae,  | legato  legionis  VII  | geminae  feli[c]is,  curatori  | 
viae  Latinae,  pr[a]etori,  tribun[o]  | plebis,  quaestori  urbano, 
1 sacerdoti  Herculis.  This  inscription  must  belong  to  the 
first  half  of  the  second  century,  since  Cornelius  Senecio 
was  proconsul  of  Pontus  and  Bithynia  before  136  a.d.,  the 
year  in  which  these  districts  became  an  imperial  province. 
His  office  as  sacerdos  Herculis  21  was  in  all  probability  con- 
ferred on  him  by  the  inhabitants  of  Carteia  while  he  was  serv- 
ing as  legatus  legionis  VII,  but  the  exact  date  of  this  service 
cannot  be  determined.  It  is  further  probable  that  the  same 
god  appears  in  the  fragmentary  inscription  from  Epora,  2. 
2162  . . . sacerdoti  Her(culis)  | Modia  Rustieula  | mater 
d(edicavit).  Two  inscriptions  to  Hercules  Invietus  should 
also  in  all  probability  be  reckoned  here.  Ipsca,  2.  1568 : 
Herculi  Invicto  | A.  Lieinius  Glaucus  | d(e)  p(ecunia)  s(ua) 
m(erito).22  Tucci,2. 1660:  Herculi  Invicto  Ti(berius)  Augusti 
f(ilius)  divi  nep(os)  Caesar  Augustus]  imp(erator)  pontifex 
maxumus  ded[icavit].23 

Of  the  sixteen  remaining  inscriptions  referring  to  the  wor- 
ship of  Hercules  it  is  impossible  to  say  how  many  belong  to 
the  Phoenician  divinity.  But  in  all  probability  a consider- 
able number  do  so.24 

20  References  are  to  the  Corpus  Inscriptionum  Latinarum  unless  otherwise  indi- 
cated. 

21  That  this  Hercules  is  the  god  of  Gades  may  be  safely  assumed  in  view  of  the 
origin  and  history  of  Carteia.  Furthermore,  it  will  be  noted  that  the  office  of  priest 
is  named  at  the  end  of  the  cursus,  showing  that  it  was  something  extraordinary. 
Cf.  Hiibner  ad  loc.  No.  1927,  an  inscribed  tile,  also  bears  witness  to  this  cult  at 
Carteia. 

22  The  name  of  the  dedicant  is  reported  as  Alcinus  Glaucus ; I have  adopted 
Hiibner’s  emendation. 

23  On  this  extraordinary  dedication  by  Tiberius,  which  must  fall  in  the  year 
14  a.d.,  see  the  comments  of  Hiibner  and  Mommsen  ad.  be. 

24  The  complete  list  is  as  follows:  726,  727  near  ancient  Norba  in  Lusitania; 
in  the  province  of  Bsetica  were  found  1303,  1304  to  Hercules  Augustus  at  the 
modem  Jerez  de  la  Fontera,  1436  at  Ostippo,  2058  in  the  valley  of  the  river  Singulis ; 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


323 


The  cult  of  the  second  Phoenician  divinity,  Astarte,  the 
Carthaginian  Tanith,  Dea  Cselestis,  is  attested  at  Lucus 
Augustus,  the  modern  Lugo  in  the  extreme  northwestern 
part  of  Galltecia,  of  which  it  was  the  chief  ancient  town,  and 
at  Tarraco,  the  principal  city  of  Tarraconensis.  It  is  hardly 
credible  that  her  worship  was  not  more  widely  spread  than 
the  extant  evidence  would  seem  to  indicate.  That  the  cult 
of  the  goddess  had  a permanent  establishment  at  Tarraco 
seems  to  be  indicated  by  the  sepulchral  inscription  2.  4310 : 
D.  M.  | G.  Avidio  Primulo  | sacerdoti  Caelestis  | incompa- 
rabili  | religionis  eius  | G.  Avidius  Yitalis  | patri  b.  m. 
At  Lucus  Augustus  the  dedicants  were  apparently  two 
brothers,  natives  of  the  district  or  traders  who  had  not  at- 
tained Roman  citizenship,  2.  2570 : Caelesti  | Aug(ustae)  | 
Paterni  | qui  et  | Constantii  | v(ota)  s(olverunt). 

A third  Carthaginian  divinity  may  be  seen  in  Iupiter 
Ammon,  to  whom  also  two  dedications  have  been  found. 
The  first  comes  from  the  modern  Santa  Eulalia  de  Logrosa, 
situated  near  the  coast  to  the  west  of  Lugo,  2.  5640 : 

I-  O-  M- 
A-  P-  S-  F- 
v.  S-  M- 

Although  it  is  impossible  to  state  with  certainty  that  this 
is  a dedication  to  Iupiter  Ammon,  it  is  in  all  probability  such. 
There  is  no  question,  however,  as  to  the  dedication  set  up 
by  a brother  and  sister  at  Valentia  in  Tarraco,  2.  3729 : 
[I(ovi)]  O(ptimo)  M(aximo)  Am(moni)  | L.  Antonius  | L(uci) 
f(ilius)  Gal(eria)  Sabinus  et  | Antonia  L(uci)  f(ilia)  | Pro- 
cula.  It  is  perhaps  idle  to  inquire  whether  this  divinity  is  the 
Baal  Hamman  of  the  Carthaginians  or  the  Greco-Roman 
identification  of  the  Egyptian  Amnion ; as  a matter  of  fact, 
the  two  divinities  were  in  all  probability  completely  identified 
before  the  beginning  of  our  era.  In  the  cult  of  these  three 
gods,  therefore,  we  find  traces  of  the  influence  of  the  Phoeni- 
cian settlers  in  the  peninsula;  the  perpetuation  of  this  evi- 

from  the  province  of  Tarraconensis  come  2814,  2815,  2816,  found  at  San  Esteban 
near  the  ancient  Uxama,  3009  at  Ilerda,  3096  at  Cabeza  del  Griego,  3728  at  Valenti, 
4004  (set  up  by  the  sodales  Herculani)  at  Dertosa,  5855  at  Alcala  de  Henares  near 
the  ancient  Complutum,  5950  at  Ilici,  and  6309  at  Toledo. 


324 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


dence  was  easy,  since  the  Phoenician  divinities  had  been 
identified  with  Greek  and  Roman  gods  long  before  the  strug- 
gle began  between  the  Romans  and  the  Carthaginians  for 
the  possession  of  Spain. 

We  now  turn  to  cults  which  were  brought  in  by  other 
agencies  than  those  of  the  Tyrian  merchants.  The  first 
of  these  was  that  of  Bellona.  Here  again  a difficulty  con- 
fronts us,  for  we  cannot  determine  whether  we  are  dealing 
with  the  Roman  divinity  or  with  the  Cappadocian  goddess 
whose  worship  was  made  known  to  the  west  by  Sulla’s  soldiers 
at  the  time  of  the  First  Mithridatic  War.25  I have,  there- 
fore, given  both  inscriptions  which  come  from  the  Conventus 
Emeritensis.  The  first  is  from  Turgalium ; its  reading  is 
uncertain,  but  the  following  is  approximately  correct,  2.  5277  : 
Bel[l]onae  C.  Iulius  Vit[u]lus  ar(am)  [posuit].26  The  second 
is  from  the  modern  Montanchez,  Ephemeris  Epig.  9.  44, 
no.  98:  D(is)  d(eabus)  s(acrum).|  Bellonae  L.  P.  S.  . 

| posujit  l(ibens)  a(nimo). 

The  popularity  of  these  gods  whom  we  have  thus  far  been 
considering  was  slight  in  Spain,  as  elsewhere  in  the  west, 
compared  with  that  enjoyed  by  those  greater  gods  Isis, 
Serapis,  Magna  Mater,  Mithras,  and  the  solar  divinities. 
Let  us  first  consider  the  Egyptian  goddess  and  her  associates. 

The  centres  of  Isiac  religion  were  the  following : 

Lusitania. 

Salacia,  2.  33.  Isidi  dominae  | M.  Octavius  Octaviae  | 
M.  f.  Marcellae  Mode  | Ratillae  lib.  Theophilus  | v.s.l.m. 

Pax  Iulia,  2.  46.  Serapi  Pantheo  | sacrum.  | In  honorem 
G.  Majri  Prisciani  | Stelina  Prisca  | mater  filii  | indulgen- 
tissimi  j d.  d. 

Baetica. 

La  Torre  del  conde  de  Feria,  2.  981.  Isidi  dominae  | 
ex  testamento  [ Scandillae  C.  f.  Campanae. 

Igabrum,  2.  1611.  Pietati  Aug.  Flaminia  Pale  | Isiaea 
Igabren(sis).  | Huic  ordo  m(unieipum)  m(unicipi)  | Iga- 
brensium  | ob  merita  | statuam  decr(evit)  | quae  honore  | 
aeeepto  impens(um)  remisit. 


25  Plutarch,  Sulla,  9. 


26  Ephemeris  Epig.  8.  S77. 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


325 


Tarraconensis. 

Acci,  2.  3386.  Isidi  puel(lari)  | iussu  dei  Ne(tonis?).  | 
Fabia  L.  f.  Fabiana  avia  | in  honorem  Avitae  neptis  | piis- 
sumae  ex  arg.  p.  CXH&  = £3  V,  | item  ornamenta : in 
basilio  unio  et  margarita  | n.  VI,  zmaragdi  duo,  cylindri 
n.  VII,  gemma  car|bunclus,  gemma  hyacinthus,  gemmae 
cerauniae  | duae ; in  auribus  zmaragdi  duo,  margarita  duo  ; | 
in  collo  quadribaeium  margaritis  n.  XXXVI,  | zmaragdis 
n.  XVIII,  in  clusuris  duo ; in  tibiis  | zmaragdi  duo,  cylindri 
n.  XI ; in  spataliis  zmaragjdi  n.  VIII,  margarita  n.  VIII ; 
in  digito  minimo  anuli  | duo  gemmis  adamant.,  digito 
sequenti  anulus  pojlypsephus  zmaragdis  et  margarito, 
in  digito  summo  | anulus  com  zmaragdo ; in  soleis  cylindri 
n.  VIII. 

Acci,  2.  3387.  Livia  Chlcedonica  | Isidi  deae  d.  | h.s.e.  | 
ornata  ut  potuit : | in  collo  H monile  | gemmeum ; in  digitis  j 
zmaragd.  XX.  dextr.  | . . . 

Valentia,  2.  3730  (—  6004).  Sodalicium  | vernarum 

| colentes  Isid(em). 

2.  3731.  Serapi  | pro  salute  P.  | Herenni 
Se|veri  Callini[[c]us  ser(vus). 

Tarraco,  2.  4080.  Isidi  Aug.  | sacrum.  In  honor(em)  | 
et  memoriam  | C . . . . liae  Sabinae  | Clod.  0[rbi]ana  ] 
mater,  | Sempronia  Lychnis  | avia. 

Aquae  Calidae,  2.  4491.  P.  Licinius  Phijletus  et  Lici- 1 
nia  Crassi  lib.  | Peregrina  Isidi  | v.s.l.m.  loc(o)  ac(ce)p(to) 
a repub  (lica). 

Emporia,  2.  6185. 

. . serapid  |i  aedem 
. . . sedili\a, 

. . . |meni  f. 

. . . |ius 

Asturica  Augusta,  2.  5665.  . . . Zew  le'pcnn';  ’I cub. 

Bracara  Augusta,  2.  2416.  Isidi  Aug.  sacrum.  | Lucretia 
Fida  sacerd(os)  perp(etua)  | Rom(ae)  et  Aug(usti)  | con- 
ventuus  Bracaraug(ustani)  d(edicavit). 

Panoias,  2.  2395,  c.  'T tyi'crra)  2[a/)a]7u&.  avv  . . . ical 
/x.uo-[T7/]/)to[t]?.  C.  Calpurnius  Rufinus  voti  compos.27 


87  As  corrected  in  the  Archeologo  Portugues,  1897,  p.  59. 


326 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


That  in  the  dedication  at  Pax  Iulia  (46)  the  epithet  Pan- 
theus  is  given  Serapis  is  not  surprising,  for  the  god  bore  this 
universal  character  at  the  time  of  his  introduction  into 
Egypt  in  the  third  century  before  our  era,28  and  the  expres- 
sion fits  the  sync-retistic  religious  thought  of  the  empire. 
Thus  we  find  a close  parallel  in  an  African  inscription,  Corpus, 
8.  12493  : Ad  'PI A. do  p^ejaXo)  J 7 ravdew  2 apamhi. 

Igabrum  in  Bsetica  was  apparently  an  important  centre 
of  the  worship  of  Isis  according  to  1611,  in  which  the  title 
Isiaca  Igabrensis  is  equivalent  to  sacerdos  publica  Igabrensis. 
An  exact  parallel  to  this  is  found  at  Ostia,  where  the  titles  Isia- 
cus  huius  loci  (Corpus,  14.  352)  and  sacerdos  Isidis  Ostiensis 
(14.  429,  437)  both  appear. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  eight  places  in  Tarraconensis 
which  now  offer  us  evidence  of  the  cult  of  the  Egyptian  divin- 
ities extend  from  the  southernmost  part  of  the  province  along 
the  eastern  coast  into  the  northwestern  dioceses  of  Asturia 
and  Gallaecia.  The  most  interesting  of  these  are  the  two 
dedications  from  Acci,  the  eolonia  Iulia  Gemella  (3386  and 
3387),  which  testify  to  the  wealth  and  importance  of  the  god- 
dess’s shrine  there.  The  extraordinary  inventory  of  gifts 
recorded  in  the  first  sounds  like  a list  of  the  votive  treasure 
of  some  favorite  shrine  of  the  Virgin  Mary  to-day.29  In  fact, 
of  all  the  similar  records  preserved  to  us  from  Roman  an- 
tiquity the  only  inventory  comparable  to  this  is  that  of  the 
sacred  treasury  of  Isis  and  Bubastis  near  the  ancient  shrine 
of  Diana  Nemorensis  in  the  Alban  Hills,30  the  value  of  which 

28  On  the  introduction  of  the  god  into  Egypt  see  Lehmann-Haupt  in  Roseher’s 
Lexikon,  4.  341  ff. 

29  The  money  value  of  the  gifts  was  very  considerable.  Only  that  of  the  112  lbs., 
8p|  oz.  can  now  be  reckoned  with  any  degree  of  accuracy,  which  at  the  current  price 
of  silver  is  equivalent  to  a little  less  than  $700.  Naturally  the  value  of  the  gems  and 
settings  cannot  be  determined  even  approximately. 

30  Corpus,  14.  2215.  Res  traditae  fanis  utrisque : signa  n(umero)  xvii,  caput 
solis  i,  imagines  argenteas  iiii,  clupeum  i,  aras  aeneas  duas,  delphicam  aeneam, 
spondeum  i argenteum  et  patera,  basileum  omatum  ex  gemmis  n.  i,  sistrum  argen- 
teum  inauratum,  spondeum  inauratum,  patera  cum  frugibus,  collarem  ex  gemmis 
beryllis,  spatalia  cum  gemmis  ii,  collarem  alterum  cum  gemmis  n.  vii,  inaures  ex 
gemmis  n.  x,  nauplia  ii  pura,  corona  analempsiaca  i cum  gemmis  topazos  n.  xxi 
et  carbunculos  n.  lxxxiiii,  cancelli  aenei  cum  hermulis  n.  vii  intro  et  foras,  vestem 
liniam  tunicam  i,  pallium  i,  zonam  cum  segmentis  argenteis,  stola  i,  vestem  altera 
lintea  pura,  tunicam,  pallium,  stola,  zona.  Bubasto : vestem  siricam  purpuream 
et  callainam,  labellum  marmoreum  cum  columella,  hydria  hypsiana  et  lentea 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


327 


could  hardly  have  surpassed  that  of  the  gifts  made  by  this 
single  Spanish  devotee,  Fabia  Fabiana,  to  whose  wealth, 
affection  for  her  granddaughter,  and  devotion  to  the  goddess 
the  inscription  bears  eloquent  witness.  The  shrine  must 
have  been  well  established  and  held  in  high  esteem  to  be  the 
recipient  of  such  gifts  ; this  is  also  shown  by  the  fact  that  the 
Egyptian  cult  had  been  brought  into  friendly  relations  with 
the  local  divinity  Neto,31  whom  Macrobius  describes  (Sat.  i. 
19,  5)  : Accitani  etiam,  Hispana  gens,  simulacrum  Martis 
radiis  ornatum  maxima  religione  celebrant,  Neton  vocantes. 
This  Spanish  god,  who  to  Macrobius  and  the  men  of  his  day 
was  naturally  a solar  divinity,  — radiis  ornatum,  — may 
well  have  been  regarded  as  such  in  the  second  century  of 
our  era ; 32  with  a god  of  this  character  Isis  could  easily  be 
associated.  It  is  worth  noting  here  that  at  Ostia  a decuri- 
alis  scriba  librarius  dedicated  to  Isis  regina  a signum  Martis,33 
the  god  with  whom  Neto  was  identified  by  the  interpretatio 
Romana. 

The  two  inscriptions  from  Valentia  (3730,  3731)  show  dev- 
otees of  the  lowest  class.  Nos.  4080,  4491,  and  6185  call 
for  no  comment.  The  identification  of  Zei)?  Repair ls  in 
no.  5665  is  also  a commonplace.34  The  name  ’law  requires 
some  further  consideration,  for  this  is,  so  far  as  I know,  the 
only  inscription  in  which  this  name  is  attached  to  Sarapis. 
That  ’law  was  identical  with  the  Jewish  Jahwe  and  was  also 
the  Phoenician  name  of  the  Chaldean  Dionysus  is  well 
known ; 35  likewise  familiar  is  the  passage  in  Macrobius’ 
Saturnalia,  i.  18,  19-21,  where  the  learned  Vettius  Agorius 

purpurea  cum  clavis  aureis  et  zona  aurea,  tunicas  ii  praecincta  et  discincta  et 
palliolum,  vestem  altera  alba,  tunica,  stola,  zona  et  pallium. 

For  a rich  collection  of  Latin  texts  relating  to  votive  offerings  and  a discus- 
sion thereof,  see  De  Marchi,  11  Culto  Privato,  1.  pp.  292-307. 

31  Probably  the  same  as  the  god  Netus  of  Corpus,  2.  365,  5278. 

32  Cf.  Apuleius,  Metamorphoses,  xi.  24,  where  it  is  said  that  the  initiate  was 
dressed  ad  instar  solis.  Furthermore,  the  identification  of  Sarapis  with  Sol  was  not 
uncommon.  Cf.  Corpus,  8.  12493;  Inscriptiones  Grsecse,  12.  2,  114;  etc.  Our 
inscription  can  hardly  be  earlier  than  the  second  century. 

33  Ephemeris  Epigraphica,  7.  1194. 

34  See  Head,  Historia  Nummorum,  p.  720,  for  this  inscription  on  coins  of  Alex- 
andria, p.  570  on  coins  of  Tripolis  in  Phrygia.  Cf.  also  the  many  dedications  to 
Iupiter  Sarapis. 

36  Lydus,  de  Mensibus,  iv.  38 ; Diodorus  Siculus,  i.  94,  2.  Cf.  Baudissin,  Studien 
zur  semitischen  Religionsgeschichte,  1.  179-254. 


328 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


Pnetextatus  continues  his  discourse  after  quoting  the  Orphic 
verse : 

eh  Zee?  eh  ’A I8rj<;  eh  "H\to?  eh  Atovvaos, 

huius  versus  auctoritas  fundatur  oraculo  Apollinis  Clarii, 
in  quo  aliud  quoque  nomen  soli  adicitur,  qui  in  isdem  sacris 
versibus  inter  cetera  vocatur  ’I aw.  Nam  consultus  Apollo 
Clarius,  quis  deorum  habendus  sit,  qui  vocatur  ’law,  ita 
effatus  est : 

opyia  p,ev  SeSawTa?  e’ypf/t’  vr/irevOea  KevOeiv , 
el  8’  clpa  tol  rravpi]  avveats  teal  vovs  aXairubvch, 

(j)pd^eo  tov  rravTcov  inraTOV  Oeov  epp.ev  ’law, 

Xetp-aTt  p,e'v  t ’ A 18t)V,  Ala  8'  e’lapos  ap%op.e'voio, 

’AeXtov  Se  Oepevs,  p.eTOird>pov  8'  afipov  ’lad). 

huius  oraculi  vim,  numinis  nominisque  interpretationem,  qua 
Liber  patet  et  sol  ’I ad>  significatur,  exsecutus  est  Cornelius 
Labeo  in  libro,  cui  titulus  est  de  oraculo  Apollinis  Clarii. 
There  is  no  occasion  here  to  discuss  the  use  of  ’law  in 
magic  and  in  gnosticism ; 36  for  us  it  is  sufficient  to  observe  that 
in  the  fourth  century,  or  rather  in  the  second  half  of  the  third, 
if  Cornelius  Labeo  is  correctly  placed  there,  this  oracle  was 
current  in  which  ’law  is  presented  as  tov  TravTwv  viraTov  6eov , 
and  that  in  the  pantheistic  thought  of  the  day  he  was 
the  solar  divinity ; as  such  he  might  naturally  be  identified 
with  Sarapis,  who  frequently  appears  as  Sol  Sarapis,  Iupiter 
Sol,  etc.37  The  date  of  our  inscription  from  Asturica  Au- 
gusta cannot  be  determined,38  but  its  appearance  in  this  re- 
mote district  shows  how  widely  oriental  syncretism  had  pen- 
etrated throughout  the  empire.  It  is  true  that  Asturica  was 
an  important  city,39  capital  of  the  conventus  which  bore  its 
name,  and  as  such  was  doubtless  visited  by  traders  from  the 
Orient.  Whether  soldiers  of  eastern  origin  were  quartered 

36  Vid.  Baudissin,  op.  cit. 

37  Corpus,  13.  8246  Soli  Serapi ; 3.  3 I ovi  Soli  optimo  maximo  Sarapidi ; 14.  47 
A a 'IlXt'aj  /j.eyd\a>  XapairiSi;  etc.  On  the  passage  in  Macrobius,  vid.  Buresch, 
Klaros,  pp.  48  ff. 

38  Why  Lehmann-Haupt,  Roscher’s  Lexikon,  4.  360,  says : die  Inschrift  stammt 
nach  dem  Schrifteneharakter  und  nach  des  Herausgebers  Urteil  aus  dem  dritten 
Jahrhundert  rnr  Christus,  is  beyond  my  comprehension.  Probably  this  is  a misprint 
for  nach  Christus,  for  in  the  third  century  b.c.  this  part  of  Spain  was  a howling 
Iberian  wilderness  and  certainly  had  not  heard  of  Serapis  or  the  mystic  ’I aw. 

39  Pliny,  Naturalis  Historia,  iii.  28. 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


329 


here  cannot  be  determined  from  the  paucity  of  our  data, 
although  such  were  undoubtedly  stationed  at  the  neighbor- 
ing town  of  Legio  Septima.40 

The  inscription  from  Bracara  Augusta  (2416)  is  interesting, 
for  it  records  a dedication  to  Isis  by  a woman  who  had  been 
honored  with  appointment  as  sacerdos  perpetua  of  the  cult 
of  Rome  and  the  imperial  house  by  the  conventus  of  which 
Bracara  Augusta  was  the  centre.  If  Hiibner  was  right  in 
dating  the  inscription  on  palseographical  grounds  as  belong- 
ing to  the  end  of  the  first  or  the  beginning  of  the  second  cen- 
tury of  our  era,  we  have  an  indication  of  the  comparatively 
early  date  at  which  Isis  had  established  herself  in  the  north- 
western part  of  the  peninsula. 

Finally,  it  may  be  noted  that  the  dedication  from  Panoias 
(2395,  c)  is  one  of  five  cut  in  the  rocks  beside  a sacred  lake. 
All  are  in  parts  illegible  or  badly  copied,  but  the  same  dedi- 
cant, C.  Calpurnius  Rufinus,  appears  in  three,  one  of  which 
(2395,  6)  records  the  establishment  of  the  sacred  place : Diis 
deabusque  aeternum  lacum  omnibusque  numinibus  et  amphi- 
theatrum  41  cum  hoc  templo  sacravit  C.  Calp(urnius)  Rufinus 
v(oti)  c(ompos),  in  quo  hostiae  voto  cremantur. 

It  is  well  known  that  women  and  slaves  were  especially 
devoted  to  Isis  and  her  associates ; indeed,  these  gods  may 
have  been  brought  to  the  west  in  connection  with  the  slave 
trade.42  Now  it  appears  that  seven  of  the  fourteen  Isiac 
inscriptions  are  due  to  free-born  women,  among  whom  we 
find  at  Igabrum  (1611)  a priestess  established  by  the  com- 
munity with  the  title  Isiaca  Igabrensis  and  another  at  Bra- 
cara (2416)  in  the  northwest  of  the  peninsula,  who  was  sacer- 
dos perpetuae  Romae  et  Augusti.  The  two  dedications  from 
Valentia  (3730,  3731)  were  set  up  by  a sodalicium  vernarum 

40  In  any  case  we  have  the  record  of  an  African  legatus  there  in  the  dedication  to 
Diana  of  a temenos  and  temple  by  Q.  Tullius  Maximus  leg(atus)  Aug(usti)  le- 
g(ionis)  septimae  gem(inae)  felicis  (2.  2660),  who  describes  himself  as  Tullius  e 
Libya.  The  inscription  dates  from  the  time  of  Trajan  or  of  Hadrian. 

41  So  Mommsen ; the  stone  has  lapitearum,  according  to  report. 

42  At  first  the  women  seem  to  have  belonged  to  the  lower  class  or  the  demimonde. 
Catullus,  10,  26  f.  volo  ad  Sarapim  deferri.  Tibullus,  i.  3,  23  f.  quid  tua  nunc  Isis 
mihi,  Delia,  quid  mihi  prosunt|illa  tua  totiens  aera  repulsa  manu  ? Cf.  id.  vii.  27. 
Propertius,  iii.  33,  1 ff.  Ovid,  Amores,  i.  8,  74 ; ii.  13,  7 ff. ; Ars  am.  i.  77  IT., 
etc.  Juvenal,  vi.  522  ff.  Later  the  devotees  were  not  limited  by  such  social  dis- 
tinctions. 


330 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


and  a certain  Callinicus  servus.  Although  to  draw  definite 
conclusions  from  these  data  alone  would  perhaps  be  as  mis- 
leading as  counting  bonnets  in  a church  to-day,  it  is  inter- 
esting that  the  facts  in  Spain  accord  with  the  evidence 
elsewhere. 

It  will  not  have  escaped  notice  that  none  of  the  dedications 
to  the  Egyptian  divinities  has  been  found  in  the  interior,  but 
that  all  are  distributed  through  what  we  may  call  the  ex- 
terior zone  of  the  peninsula ; and  that  only  two  come  from 
Lusitania.  In  contrast  to  this,  four  of  the  seven  inscriptions 
testifying  to  the  worship  of  the  Great  Mother  belong  in  that 
province.  They  are  as  follows  : 

Lusitania. 

Olisipo,  2.  178.  Deum  matri  | T.  Licinius  | Amaranthus  | 
v.s. l.m. 

2.  179.  Matri  de|um  Mag(nae)  Ide[ae  Phryg(iae) 
Fl(avia)  | Tyche  cerno[phor(a)  per  M.  Iul(ium)  | Cas- 
s(ianum)  et  Cass(iam)  Sev(eram).  | M.  At(ilio)  et  Ann(io) 
Gal(lo)  coss.  (108  a.d.) 

Capera,  2.  805.  Matri  | deum  | Britta  (sic) . 

Emerita,  2.  5260.  M(atri)  d(eum)  s(acrum).  | Val(eria) 
Avita  | aram  tauroboli  | sui  natalici  red  diti  d.  d.  sacerdojte 
Docyrico  Vale|riano,  arcigallo  | Publicio  Mystico. 

Bsetica. 

Corduba,  2.  5521.  Ex  iussu  Matris  deum  | pro  salute 
imperii  | taurobolium  fecit  Publicius  | Valerius  Fortunatus 
Thalamus ; | suscepit  crionis  Porcia  Bassenia  ; | sacerdote 
Aurelio  Stephano ; [ dedicata  viii  Kal.  April.  | Pio  et  Proculo 
cos.  (238  a.d.) 

Tarraconensis. 

Monte  Cildad,  Eph.  Epig.  8.  p.  424,  160.  Matri  deum| 
C.  Licinius  Cis[s]|us  templum  | [e]x  voto  . . . m. 

Insula  Balearis  Minor. 

Mago,  2.  3706.  M.  Badius  Honorjatus]  | et  Cornelius 
Silv[anus]  | templum  Matri  Ma[gnae  et]  Atthin(i)  de  s.  p.  [f ] . 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


331 


Of  the  two  inscriptions  from  Olisipo  (178,  179)  happily 
the  second  is  dated  by  the  consuls  as  belonging  to  the  year 
108  a.d.  It  shows  the  cult  with  a well-developed  personnel, 
although  it  need  not  therefore  prove  that  the  Great  Mother 
had  long  been  established  at  Olisipo.  The  title  eernophora 
reappears  in  inscriptions  only,  Corpus,  10.  1803,  from  Puteoli : 
D(is)  M(anibus)  Heriae  Victorianae  caernophoro  M.  Herius 
Valerianus  filiae  dulcissimae,  but  the  nature  of  the  office  is 
suggested  by  the  mention  of  the  cernus  in  Corpus,  8.  23401 
from  Mactar  in  Africa,  dating  from  the  reign  of  Probus 
(285-293)  : perfectis  rite  sacris  cernorum  crioboli  et  tauro- 
boli,  and  in  Corpus,  6.  508,  from  the  city  of  Rome  of  the  date 
April  19,  319:  taurobolium  criobol(ium)  cerno  perceptum 
per  Fl(avium)  Antonium  Eustochium  sac(erdotem)  Phry- 
g(ium)  max(imum).  That  the  cernus  (Kepvos)  played  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  mysteries  of  Cybele  in  Asia  Minor  and 
Greece  is  known  to  us.  Alexander  the  ^Etolian  sings  in 
Aleman’s  name,  Anthologia  Palatina,  vii.  709  : 

2apSte?  ap^alcu,  iraTepcov  vopLos,  el  get?  ev  vpdv 
irpecfiopLav,  Kepvas  rju  ti?  dv  fj  ficuceXas 
'Xpvaotyopos  ppcracov  KaXa  TVpn rava  • vvv  Se'  got  ’A X/egat? 
ovvop-a , Kal  ^TrapTas  elpX  TroXvTpiTroBo'i. 

Likewise  Nicander  in  his  Alexipharmaca,  217  ff. : 

r)  are  tcepvcxfrdpos  ^a/copos  (dwp.icnpia  'Pet?;? 
elvaBi  XaocfiopoLcnv  evL'y_plp.'KTOVcja  KeXevdoLi 
pba/epov  eirepiftoda  yXcbaarj  dpoov , ktX. 

Clement  of  Alexandria,  Protrepticos,  i.  2,  13,  tells  us  dis- 
tinctly that  the  carrying  of  the  /cepvos  was  a regular  part 
of  the  initiation  into  the  rites  of  Attis,  Cybele,  and  the  Cory- 
bantes  : ravra  TeXlaKOvaLv  ot  <&pv yes  ’’AttlBl  ical  K v/3eXrj  Kal 
}Zopv/3acn,  — tcl  avp,/3oXa  Trjs  pLVr/aeco'i  TavTrjs  e’/c  Tvpnrdvov  e<f>ayov, 
Ik  KVfx/3dXov  eTriov,  iKepvocfaoprjaa,  w to  tov  Traarbv  vireBvov.  The 
scholiast  on  Plato’s  Gorgias,  p.  497,  assures  us  that  the  same 
formula  was  used  in  the  lesser  mysteries  : iv  ok  (sc.  rok  p.i- 
Kpok  piVaTi)p(ois)  ttoXXcl  get?  eirpaTrero  alcr^pa,  eXe'yero  Be  irpos 
tlov  guoitgeWt?  t avra  * 'etc  TVfnravov  ecf>ayov , e/c  Kvp.f3dXov  eVtoc, 
€Kepvocf)dp7]aa  (Kepvos  Be  to  Xlkvov  r/yovv  to  tttvov  e’crTtz?),  in to  tov 
iraaTov  {nreBvov  Kal  Ta  ef???.’  In  fact  we  may  be  sure  that  the 


332 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


Ke'pvos,  or  its  counterpart  the  \Uvov,  filled  with  sacred  sym- 
bols, was  carried  in  many  forms  of  mystic  initiation.  The 
vessel  itself  doubtless  varied  in  shape  from  a simple  vase 
to  those  elaborate  affairs  described  by  Athenseus  which 
were  obviously  intended  for  offering  the  iray  tapir  ta}*  In 
the  case  of  the  taurobolium  or  criobolium  the  cernus  was 
probably  used  to  hold  the  vires  of  the  victim  as  it  may  have 
been  for  the  atSoio v of  the  newly  consecrated  Gallus.44 

Now  it  will  be  observed  that  the  two  inscriptions  in  which 
the  cernus  is  mentioned  are  taurobolic,  which  fact  at  once 
raises  the  question  whether  the  inscription  from  Olisipo  is 
also  of  that  character.  Although  the  taurobolium  is  not 
expressly  mentioned,  it  is  noteworthy  that  aside  from  the 
title  cernophora,  we  have  the  formula  of  agency  per  M. 
Iulium  Cassianum  et  Cassiam  Severam,  which  is  exactly  the 
expression  used  in  the  taurobolic  inscription  of  319  a.d. 
cpioted  above.45  It  is,  therefore,  not  impossible  that  our 
inscription  is  of  like  nature ; if  it  be,  it  antedates  by  twenty- 
six  years  the  puzzling  inscription  from  Puteoli  (Corpus,  10. 
1596),  which  is  usually  regarded  as  the  earliest  record  of  a 
taurobolium.  To  follow  the  traditional  view  may  be  the 
safer  course  in  view  of  the  paucity  of  our  data,  but  I have 
grave  doubts  if  it  is  the  correct  one. 

The  dedication  of  the  altar  at  Emerita  (5260)  on  palseo- 
graphieal  evidence  is  placed  toward  the  end  of  the  second 
century.  The  meaning  of  the  expression  aram  tauroboli  sui 
natalici  redditi  is  discussed  by  Hiibner  ad  loc.,  who  holds 
that  the  altar  recorded  a taurobolium  paid  the  god  on  A vita’s 
birthday,  while  Mommsen,  whom  Hiibner  quotes,  prefers 
to  think  that  the  altar  records  the  payment  of  a birthday 
vow  for  the  taurobolium  which  A vita  had  performed  one  or 
twenty  years  before.  The  language  of  our  inscription  is 
obscure,  but  I am  inclined  to  agree  with  Zippel,  Z.c.,  p.  499, 
in  holding  that  since  the  one  who  received  the  taurobolium 
was  renatus,  the  day  on  which  he  entered  his  new  life  might 

43  Athen.  xi.  pp.  476,  478. 

44  This  is  the  view  of  Hepding,  Attis,  pp.  190-192,  in  which  I heartily  concur. 
Cf.  Zippel,  das  Taurobolium,  Festschrift  L.  Friedlander  dargebracht,  1895,  p.  508. 

45  Cf.  Corpus,  8.  8203,  criobolium  fecerunt  et  ipsi  susceperunt  per  C.  Aemilium 
Satuminum  sacerdotem. 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


333 


well  be  called  his  dies  natalis,  even  as  Paulinus  of  Nola  (xxi. 
171)  used  this  term  for  the  day  on  which  the  martyrs  in 
superna  regna  nascuntur  dei.  If  this  view  be  correct,  the 
word  natalici  is  an  adjective,  and  the  whole  expression  means 
nothing  more  than  aram  tauroboliatam.46 

The  taurobolic  inscription  from  Corduba  (5521)  requires 
no  especial  comment,  but  we  may  note  that  it  is  one  of  the 
latest  cases  in  which  it  is  recorded  that  a taurobolium  was 
offered  for  the  welfare  of  the  imperial  house  or  empire.  So 
far  as  the  extant  data  show,  such  dedications  begin  with 
Corpus,  14.  40  from  Ostia  (169-175  a.d.)  and  close  with  14. 42, 
likewise  from  Ostia  (251-253  a.d.).  Finally  it  should  be 
observed  that  the  inscription  from  Mago  (3706)  is  the  only 
evidence  we  have  for  oriental  cults  in  the  Balearic  Islands ; 
it  is  also  the  only  one  of  the  Spanish  inscriptions  in  which 
Attis  is  mentioned. 

We  now  come  to  Mithras  and  the  solar  divinities,  which 
have  been  fully  treated  by  Cumont  in  his  monumental  work, 
Textes  et  Monuments  figures  relatifs  aux  Mysteres  de  Mithra, 
2 vols.,  Bruxelles,  1894,  1896.  Discoveries  subsequent  to 
the  publication  of  this  work  have  added  a few  inscriptions. 
It  should  be  said  that  it  is  impossible  to  state  with  certainty 
in  all  cases  that  the  solar  divinity  is  to  be  identified  with 
Mithras ; in  fact,  we  must  doubt  if  that  is  the  case.  Still 
the  syncretistic  practice  of  the  empire  after  the  middle  of 
the  second  century  at  least  makes  any  distinction  between 
these  divinities  impossible,  so  that  it  is  wise  as  well  as  con- 
venient to  consider  them  all  together.  The  geographical 
distribution  of  the  inscriptions  is  as  follows  : 

Lusitania 

Olisipo,  2.  258  (C.  516).  Soli  et  Lunae  | Cestius  Acidius  | 
Perennis  | leg(atus)  Aug(usti)  pr(o)  pr(aetore)  | provinciae 
Lusitaniae. 

2.  259  (C.  517).  Soli  aeterno,  | Lunae,  | pro  aeter- 
nitate  im| peri  et  salute  imp (eratoris)  Ca[es(aris)]  [L.]  | Septimi 
Severi  Aug(usti)  Pii  et  | [im(peratoris)]  Caes(aris)  M.  Aureli 
Antonini  | Aug(usti)  Pii  [et  P.  Septimi  Getae  nob(ilissimi)]| 

46  Corpus,  14.  39.  Cf.  6.  503,  509,  510,  and  often. 


334 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


Caes(aris)  et  [Iujliae  Aug(ustae)  matris  c[a]s[tr(orum)]  | 
Drusus  Valer(ius)  Coelianus  | v.  [c.]  [leg(atus)]  Augustorum  j 
cu[ram]  [ag(ente)]  Vale[r]i[o]  [Q]ua[drato]  | Q.  lulius  Satur- 
[ninus]  [et]  | Q.  Val(erius)  Antoni[anus].47 

Emerita,  2.  464  (C.  512).  Caute  | Tib(erius)  Cl(audius)| 
Artemidoru[s]  | p.48 

Rev.  Arch.  5.  (1905),  p.  327,  24.  Invicto  deo  Quintio 
Flavi  Ba[e]tici  Con[im]brig(ensis)ser(vo). 

ibid.  25.  Anno  eol(oniae)  CLXXX;  aram  genesis 
Invicti  Mithrae  M.  Val(erius)  Secundus  pr(inceps)  le- 
g(ionis)  vii  Gem(inae)  dono  ponendam  merito  curavit.  C. 
Aceio  Hedychro  pa[t]re.  (155  a.d.) 

ibid.  26.  C.  Accius  Hedychrus  p(ater)  patrum. 

Capera,  2.  807  (C.  518).  Soli  [ invict(o)  | Aug(usto)[ 

sacrum. 

Caesarobriga,  2.  5319  (C.  521).  S(acrum  ?) 49  | deo  | 
maxjimo. 

Baetica. 

Medina  de  las  Torres,  2.  1025.  M.  C.  p.50  | A.  Asellius  | 
Tlireptus  | Romulensis  | d.  d. 

Malaca,  2.  1966  (C.  519).  L.  Servilius  Supera|tus 

domino  Invicto  | donum  libens  anijmo  posuit  | ara|(m) 
merenti. 

Italica,  2.  5366.  Deo  Invi[c]to  | Mith[r(ae)]  | Secundinus 
dat. 

Tarraconensis. 

Tarraco,  2.  4086  (C.  515).  [Invi]cto  Mithra[e]  | . . . (duo) 
vir  | . . . cime  . . . nn.  XV. 

Trillo,  2.  6308  (C.  523).  Soli  Aug(usto)  v(otum)  | 
Dio  G(ai)  lib(ertus)  | s(olvit)  l(ibens). 

Btetulo,  2.  4604  (C.  524).  Soli  d(eo)  sacrum  | A.  P(om- 
peius)  Abascantus. 

Asturica,  2.  2634  (C.  522).  I(ovi)  o(ptimo)  m(aximo),  | 

47  I have  adopted  Hiibner’s  restoration  of  the  last  four  lines. 

48  Either  p(ater)  or  p(osuit). 

49  Cumont  prefers  to  read  S(oli),  which  may  be  right.  In  either  case  we  are  not 
far  wrong  in  placing  this  dedication  in  the  same  class  with  those  to  the  solar  divini- 
ties and  to  Mithras. 

60  Hiibner  expands  to  read:  M(ithrae)  C(auto)  p(ati). 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


335 


Soli  invicto,  Libero  | patri,  Genio  praetor(ii)  [ Q.  Mami- 
l(ius)  Capitolinus  | iuridicus  per  Flaminiam  | et  Umbriam 
et  Picenum,  | leg(atus)  Aug(usti)  per  Asturiam  et  | Gallae- 
eiam,  dux  leg(ionis)  vii  [g(eminae)]  p(iae)  [f(elieis)],  | prae- 
f(ectus)  aer(arii)  Sat(urni)  pr[o]  salute  sua  | et  suorum. 

Caldas  de  Vizella,  2.  2407  (C.  520).  [Iunoni]  reginae,  | 
Miner|vae,  Soli,  j Lunae,  dijis  omni[p]o[t(entibus)],  | For- 
tunafe],  | MercurJi[o],  genio  Io]vis,  genio  [ Martis,  [A]es- 
cula|pio,  Luei,  | [S]omno,  | [V]eneri,  | [C]upidini,  ( [C]aelo, 
[Ca]s|[t]o[r]ibus,  [ [Cer]er[i],  | [G]en(io)  Vict|oriae,  Ge|nio 
meo,  | diis  sed|is  pervi(ae  ?)  | aetmoe|iaii  ccc|r  cos  | cinna  | gl. 

San  Juan  de  Isla,  2.  2705  = 5728  (C.  514).  Ponit  In|victo 
deo  | austo  po|nit  lebienjs  Fronto;  | aram  Invi|cto  deo 
aujsto  F.  ( ?)  leven|s  ponit  pre|sedente  pa|trem  patra|tum 
leone|m. 

Caldas  de  Reyes,  2.  5635  (C.  573).  Caujtijnto.  . . 

Of  these  inscriptions  three  can  be  dated.  The  second  dedi- 
cation from  Emerita  (Rev.  Arch.  5 (1905),  p.  327,  25)  is 
fixed  at  155  a.d.  by  the  words  anno  coloniae  CLXXX ; and 
the  third  inscription  (ibid.  26)  evidently  must  be  of  about  the 
same  time.  The  dedication  from  Asturica  (2634)  cannot 
have  been  set  up  earlier  than  the  time  of  Marcus  Aurelius, 
who  was  the  first  to  employ  iuridici ; 51  probably  the  inscrip- 
tion dates  from  the  early  third  century  when  under  Sep- 
timius  Severus  and  his  associates  the  oriental  cults  received 
a new  impulse.  Finally  the  imperial  titles  in  2.  259  from 
Olisipo  fix  its  date  as  between  June,  198,  when  Caracalla  was 
associated  with  Septimius  Severus  as  Augustus  and  Geta  was 
made  Caesar,  and  209,  when  Geta  was  given  the  tribunitian 
power  and  raised  to  the  position  of  Augustus. 

The  dedications  from  Emerita  show  that  in  the  middle  of 
the  second  century  the  cult  had  a developed  personnel  at  that 
place,  the  head  of  which  was  C.  Accius  Hedychrus,  pater 
patrum.  It  will  be  observed  that  his  Greek  cognomen  sug- 
gests that  he  may  have  been  of  humble  birth  if  not  of  the 
freedman  class.  Indeed,  the  members  of  the  higher  social 
classes  seem  not  to  have  held  the  sacred  Mithraic  offices  to 
any  considerable  extent,  and  are  not  represented  at  all  among 

61  Cf.  Marquardt,  Staatsverw.,  1.  224-227  (2d  ed.);  Mommsen,  Staatsrocht, 
2.  1084  f.  (3d  ed.). 


336 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


the  dedicants  named  in  the  inscriptions  which  can  be  placed 
within  the  first  two  centuries  of  our  era.  The  only  official  of 
high  rank  who  appears  in  this  period  is  M.  Valerius  Maxi- 
mianus,52  legate  of  Numidia  under  Commodus,  who  showed 
a crazy  devotion  to  Eastern  cults.53  With  the  third  century, 
however,  the  situation  changes,  and  in  increasing  numbers 
members  of  the  equestrian  and  senatorial  nobility  appear  in 
the  list  of  dedicants,  until  in  the  last  great  stand  made  by  pa- 
ganism against  Christianity  in  Rome  during  the  fourth  cen- 
tury the  highest  nobility  almost  preempts  the  worship. 
Of  the  dedicants  in  Spain  all  apparently  belong  to  the  lower 
classes  except  the  two  legati  Augusti  at  Olisipo  (258,  259) 
and  the  dux  legionis  at  Asturica  (2634). 

The  association  in  2634  of  Liber  with  Iupiter  optimus 
maximus  and  Sol  invictus  is  paralleled  by  6.  707,  Sol(i) 
Serapi  Iovi  Libero  patri  et  Mercurio  et  Silvano  sacrum,  as 
well  as  by  the  cases  in  the  fourth  century  in  which  devotees 
of  Mithras  were  also  sacrati  or  officials  of  Liber  pater.54 

There  is,  however,  no  close  parallel  for  the  medley  of  gods 
shown  in  2407.  Of  the  divinities  there  named  the  following 
are  nowhere  else  associated  with  either  Sol  or  Mithras : 
dEsculapius,  Lux,  Somnus,  Venus,  Cupido,  Castores,  Ceres, 
and  dii  sedis  per(viae).  Of  the  other  divinities,  aside  from 
Sol  and  Luna,  Iuno,  Minerva,  and  Iupiter  are  of  course  the 
Capitoline  triad,  although  some  interpretatio  barbara  may 
have  been  put  upon  them  by  the  dedicant ; Fortuna  and  Vic- 
toria are  personifications  to  which  the  soldiery  frequently 
paid  their  devotion ; 55  in  the  dii  omnipotentes  we  are  doubt- 
less to  see  Magna  Mater  and  Attis,  as  in  6.  502,  503,  and  8. 
8457 ; 56  and  Mercurius  and  Mars  frequently  appear  in  dedi- 

62  Corpus,  8.  2621. 

83  Historia  Augusta,  Vita  Com.,  9.  4-6.  Under  Septimius  Severus  the  cult  of 
Mithras  was  established  in  the  imperial  household.  Corpus,  6.  2271 : D.  M.  L. 
Septimius  Aug(ustorum  trium)  lib(ertus)  Archelaus,  pater  et  sacerdos  invicti 
Mithrae  domus  augustanae  fecit  sibi  et  Cosiae  Primitivae  coniugi  benemerenti 
libertis  libertabusque  posterisq(ue)  eorum. 

54  Corpus,  6.  500,  504,  507,  510,  1675  (and  Eph.  Epig.,  8.  648),  1779. 

56  In  Mithraic  (or  Solar)  dedications  Fortuna  and  Victoria  are  found  in  Corpus, 
6.  31139  and  Corpus,  13.  8812  (C.  129,  470). 

66  Also  6.  508,  where  the  denomination  is  potentissimi  dii.  Cf.  H.  Graillot,  Les 
Dieux  Tout-Puissants  Cybele  et  Attis  et  leur  Culte  dans  I'Afrique  du  Nord.  Rev. 
Arch.,  3 (1904),  pp.  322-353. 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


337 


cations  made  by  men  of  Celtic  or  Germanic  stock.  In 
the  following  inscriptions  erected  by  equites  singulares 
we  have  rough  parallels  to  our  inscriptions,  6.  31139: 
{in  adversa ) Voto  suscepto  sacr(um),  Iovi  optimo  ma- 
x(imo),  Soli  divino,  Marti,  Mercur(io),  Herculi,  Apollin(i), 
Silvan(o),  et  dis  omnibus  et  genio  imp(eratoris)  Hadriani 
Aug(usti)  et  genio  singularium  M.  Ulpius  Tertius  cives  Tri- 
bocus  Cl(audia)  ara  missus  honest(a)  missione  ex  numer(o) 
eq(uitum)  sing(ularium)  Aug(usti)  viii  id(us)  Ianuar(ias) 
Asprenate  ii  et  Libone  co(n)s(ulibus)  votum  solvit  libens 
merito.  {in  aversa ) Voto  suscepto  sacr(um),  Iun(oni), 
Victoriae,  Fortun(ae),  Felicitati,  Minervae,  Campestrib(us), 
Fatis,  Salut(i)  et  omnibus  deabus  et  genio  imp(eratoris) 
Hadriani  Aug(usti)  et  genio  singular(ium)  M.  Ulpius  Tertius 
cives  Tribocus  Cl(audia)  ara  missus  honest  (a)  missione  ex 
numero  eq(uitum)  sing(ularium)  Aug(usti)  viii  id  (us) 
Ian(uarias)  Aspernate  II  et  Libone  co(n)s(ulibus)  votum  sol- 
vit libens  mer(ito)  (128  a.d.).  Ibid.,  31171 : Iovi,  Iunoni, 
Soli,  Lunae,  Herculi,  Minervae,  Marti,  Mercurio,  Campes- 
tribus,  Terrae,  Caelo,  Mari,  Neptuno,  Matribus  Suleis,  genio 
imp(eratoris)  M.  Ulpius  Nonius  veteranus  Aug(usti)  cives 
Nemens(is)  v(otum)  s(olvit)  l(ibens)  m(erito). 

The  gods  in  these  inscriptions,  however,  fall  readily  into 
certain  groups:  the  Capitoline  triad  of  Jupiter,  Juno,  and 
Minerva,  the  celestial  fires  — Sol  and  Luna,  and  in  the  third 
inscription  the  earth,  heaven,  and  ocean  — Terra,  Caelus, 
Mare(  = Neptunus) ; the  Germanic  Donar,  Wodan,  and 
Tin  with  the  Roman  names  of  Mars,  Mercurius,  and  Her- 
cules ; other  Germanic  or  Illyrian  gods  called  Apollo  and  Sil- 
vanus ; and  local  native  divinities  — Campestres,  Fata,  and 
Matres.57  These  offer  therefore  no  exact  parallels  to  our  in- 
scription from  Caldas  de  Vizella.  Probably  the  multipli- 
cation of  gods  in  it  proves  nothing  more  than  the  desire  of 
the  unknown  dedicant  to  give  full  expression  to  his  pantheis- 
tic devotion  to  that  divinity  which  showed  itself  everywhere 
under  manifold  forms  and  names.58 

There  remains  one  inscription  from  Valentia : 2.  5127. 
Deo  aeterno  | sacrum  | L.  Pomponius  | Fundanus  | cum  suis 

67  Wissowa,  Religion  u.  Kultus,  p.  77,  n.  4,  and  the  literature  there  quoted. 

68  Cf.  the  familiar  passages  in  Apuleius,  Metamorphoses,  xi.  2,  5. 


338 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


omni  bus  votum  1.  a.  | solvit.  Cumont  has  made  it  very 
probable 59  that  we  are  to  see  in  the  deus  aeternus,  to  whom 
numerous  dedications  have  been  found  especially  in  Dacia, 
some  one  of  the  Syrian  Baalim.  Since  these  Baalim  were 
regarded  as  sun-gods,  it  is  likely  that  this  dedication  belongs 
with  the  Mithraic  inscriptions  as  much  as  many  of  the  dedi- 
cations to  Sol,  but  I have  hesitated  to  place  it  among  them. 

The  foregoing  detailed  examination  shows  the  way  in 
which  oriental  cults  penetrated  to  the  remoter  parts  of  the 
Roman  Empire,  as  can  be  abundantly  illustrated  also  by 
every  Roman  frontier  in  western  Europe.60  But  there  is  this 
difference  between  the  British  and  Germanic  frontiers,  for 
example,  and  Spain,  that  in  case  of  the  former  the  soldiers 
were  the  most  important  agents  in  spreading  and  continuing 
these  oriental  cults,  while  in  Spain,  as  has  been  already 
pointed  out,  nearly  all  the  dedieants  were  civilians  of  ap- 
parently humble  station.  This  fact  accords  with  the  history 
and  condition  of  the  Spanish  provinces  under  Roman  rule, 
for  the  greater  part  of  the  peninsula  was  so  early  subjugated 
that  its  life  was  civil  rather  than  military.61 

If  we  except  the  dedication  apparently  made  to  Hercules 
Invictus  by  Tiberius  Csesar  in  14  a.d.  at  Tucci  (2.  1660), 
the  other  datable  inscriptions  fall  within  the  second  and 
third  centuries  of  our  era,  the  extremes  being  108  a.d. 
(2.  179)  and  238  a.d.  (2.  5521).  This  agrees  with  the  condi- 
tions in  the  other  European  provinces,62  in  all  of  which  the 
dedications  to  the  oriental  gods  seem  to  cease  with  the  third 
century.63 

Although  the  sum  total  of  the  evidence  is  sufficient  to 
show  that  the  eastern  gods  had  considerable  vogue  in  Spain, 
it  will  have  been  observed  that  the  data  are  widely  scattered 
and  prove  the  cult  of  more  than  a single  divinity  in  only  a few 
of  the  larger  towns.  The  following  table  exhibits  these : 

59  Pauly-Wissowa,  Real-Encyclopadie,  1.  696  f. 

60  For  the  British  frontier  see  Harvard  Studies  in  Classical  Philology,  11.  48-58 ; 
for  the  German,  Trans,  of  the  Am.  Phil.  Assn.,  38.  109-150. 

61  Cf.  Trans,  of  the  Am.  Phil.  Assn.,  38.  Ill  ff. 

62  For  Gaul  and  the  Germanies,  see  Trans.  Am.  Phil.  Assn.,  l.c. 

63  The  chronology  of  oriental  cults  in  the  west  has  been  fully  treated  by  Dr. 
D.  N.  Robinson  in  a dissertation  which  I hope  will  soon  be  published.  Vide  Har- 
vard Studies  in  Classical  Philology,  22.  182  f.  (1911). 


CLIFFORD  HERSCHEL  MOORE 


339 


Lusitania. 

Olisipo.  Magna  Mater,  2.  178,  179.  Sol  et  Luna,  2.  258, 
259. 

Emerita.  Magna  Mater,  2.  5260.  Mithras,  Rev.  Arch.,  5. 
(1905)  p.  327.  24,  25,  26. 

Capera.  Magna  Mater,  2.  805.  Sol  Invictus,  2.  807. 
Tarraconensis. 

Tarraco.  Caelestis,  2.  4310.  Isis,  2.  4080.  Mithras,  2. 
4086. 

Valentia.  I.  O.  M.  Ammon,  2.  3729.  Isis,  2.  3730,  3731. 
Deus  Aeternus,  2.  5127. 

Asturica.  Isis,  2.  5665.  Sol  Invictus,  2.  2634. 

Of  course  we  have  only  a mere  fragment  of  the  evidence 
which  once  existed,  so  that  such  tables  as  these  have  little 
quantitative  value,  but  on  the  whole,  after  all  allowances 
have  been  made,  they  have  a certain  significance  as  illustrat- 
ing the  variety  of  religious  life  in  these  cities. 

No  city  of  Bsetica  appears  in  this  table.  This  is  probably 
the  result  mainly  of  chance,  but  the  question  certainly  arises 
whether  chance  may  not  have  been  aided  by  Christian  influ- 
ence. The  oldest  Christian  communities  in  Spain  known  to 
us  were  found  at  Caesar  Augusta  (Saragossa),  Astorica, 
Leon,  and  Emerita,64  but  Christianity  must  have  had  a much 
wider  foothold  than  this,  for  about  the  year  300  no  less  than 
thirty-seven  bishops  and  presbyters  attended  the  council  at 
Elvira  (Granada) ; 65  of  these  twenty-three  represented  Chris- 
tian communities  in  Baetica. 

In  the  other  Spanish  provinces  Christianity  was  relatively 
weak,  and  it  is  interesting  to  note  that  of  the  places  in  Lusi- 
tania which,  as  shown  in  the  table  given  above,  offer  proof 
of  the  existence  of  more  than  one  oriental  cult,  only  Emerita 
was  certainly  a bishopric  in  the  period  under  discussion,  and 
only  Asturica  among  the  three  cities  of  Tarraconensis;  it 

64  Cyprian,  Ep.  67. 

65  Cf.  Duchesne,  Le  concile  d’Elvire  et  les  flamines  chretiens,  1886 ; Hamack, 
Mission  u.  Ausbreitung  des  Christentums,  2.  255-262  (2d  ed.),  on  the  history  of 
Spanish  Christianity  in  the  first  three  centuries. 


340 


ORIENTAL  CULTS  IN  SPAIN 


seems  strange  that  Tarraco  did  not  possess  a bishop,  but  there 
is  no  evidence  that  such  was  the  case.  Of  the  conflict 
between  oriental  cults  and  Christianity  we  hear  nothing 
directly  during  these  centuries,  but  the  paucity  of  our  data 
from  Bsetica  may  be  an  indirect  evidence  of  the  struggle. 

Cambridge, 

February,  1911. 


THE  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE 
HAMMURABI  CODE 


David  Gordon  Lyon 

Harvard  University 

The  Hammurabi  Code  is  devoted  strictly  to  civil,  secu- 
lar affairs.  Several  of  its  laws  make  mention  of  the  god, 
the  temple,  and  the  religious  devotee,  never,  however,  as 
prime  objects  of  legislation.  When  religious  characters  and 
institutions  are  mentioned  at  all,  it  is  on  account  of  their 
relation  to  the  civil,  social  topics  considered  by  the  legisla- 
tor.1 Though  Hammurabi  was  deeply  devoted  to  religion, 
as  appears  in  the  prologue  and  the  epilogue  to  the  Code,  no 
feature  of  the  Code  itself  is  clearer  than  that  its  material 
and  aims  are  entirely  secular. 

The  religious  characters  named  in  the  Code  are  certain 
classes  of  devotees,  all  of  whom  are  women.  The  laws  re- 
lating to  this  subject  are  not  grouped  together,  as  naturally 
would  be  the  case,  if  the  devotees  had  been  thought  of  as 
one  of  the  topics  of  legislation,  but  are  scattered,  singly  or 
in  small  groups,  through  the  Code.2  The  list,  with  the 

1 See  an  article  on  The  Structure  of  the  Hammurabi  Code,  in  the  Journal  of 
the  American  Oriental  Society,  25.  248  If.  (1904). 

2 Various  other  subjects  are  similarly  broken  up  and  scattered.  This  has  led 
some  students  to  the  conclusion  that  there  is  no  sustained  coherency  or  system 
in  the  Code.  Others  find  system,  indeed,  but  only  of  an  artificial  kind,  arrived 
at  by  laying  on  the  Code  a framework  of  their  own  devising.  I refer  here  in  par- 
ticular to  Professor  J.  Kohler  of  Berlin,  who  has  given  much  attention  to  the  inter- 
pretation of  the  Code.  In  the  article  referred  to  under  note 1 I criticised  the  analysis 
of  the  Code  given  by  him  and  Peiser.  In  a brief  rejoinder,  Hammurabi’s  Gesetz,  3. 
221  f.  (1909),  the  criticism  is  rejected.  I can  hardly  think  that  the  grounds  of  it 
were  clearly  understood.  My  analysis  shows  that  the  laws  are  very  carefully 
arranged  under  the  two  heads  Property  and  Person,  that  each  of  these  has  three 
subheads,  and  each  subhead  still  smaller  divisions,  down  to  the  individual  laws. 
The  proof  of  the  correctness  of  this  scheme  is  to  read  the  Code  with  this  analysis  in 
hand.  The  analysis  ascribed  to  me  in  the  work  just  cited  is  something  quite 
different. 


341 


342  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


subject  of  the  respective  laws,  is  here  appended.  It  shows 
that  the  devotees  are  introduced  in  sixteen  laws,  which  appear 
in  seven  different  connections  in  the  Code. 


* Number  and  Subject  of  the  Laws 

40.  Sale  of  Real  Estate. 

110.  Wine  Shops. 

127.  Slander. 

137.  Divorce.3 

144-147.  Rights  of  Women. 

178-182.  Inheritance. 

187,  192,  193.  Adoption  of  Children. 

The  object  of  this  paper  is  to  inquire  into  the  character 
and  standing  of  these  devotees,  whom  from  other  sources 
we  know  to  have  been  numerous  and  in  certain  cases  wealthy 
and  influential.  Regarding  their  religious  functions,  the 
Code,  concerning  itself  entirely  with  matters  of  a secular 
nature,  gives  us  no  information. 

Several  classes  of  these  women  appear  in  the  Code,  but 
the  distinctions  between  them  are  not  clearly  understood. 
The  class  occurring  most  frequently  4 is  represented  by  a 
sign  which  seems  to  be  composed  of  two  others,  sal  and  me 
or  sal  and  dingir.  The  first,  sal,  is  the  regular  sign  for 
woman,  sinnistu.  If  the  second  be  dingir,  the  compound 
would  naturally  mean  the  woman  of  a god,  a consecrated 
woman.  That  the  combination  indicates  such  a woman  is 
beyond  question.  It  is  often  followed  in  the  contemporary 
records  by  the  name  of  the  god  to  whom  the  sal-me  is 
devoted.  In  the  Code  itself  we  find  the  sal-me  of  Marduk 
(182),  and  also  the  sal-me  of  the  convent  (180).  Several 
students  have  translated  the  two  signs  by  ‘priestess,’  but 
this  seems  to  me  too  definite.  The  rendering,  ‘votary,’  is 

3 In  137  and  144-147  several  scholars  translate  the  sign  which  represents  one  of 
these  classes  of  devotees  as  if  it  were  the  ordinary  sign  for  woman,  and  seem,  there- 
fore, to  consider  that  the  laws  in  question  are  concerned  with  ordinary  wives.  But 

while  the  stonecutter  has  made  an  occasional  mistake,  it  is  in  the  highest  degree 
improbable  that  he  should  have  done  this  in  regard  to  the  same  word  in  several 
successive  laws.  4 §§  40,  110,  137,  144,  145,  146,  178,  179,  181. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


343 


here  chosen  as  the  vaguer  term,  but  is  meant  to  be  only 
provisional. 

Another  class5  is  represented  by  the  signs  nin  dingir, 
the  second  of  which  means  a god,  and  the  first,  ‘lady’  or 
‘sister.’  In  the  syllabaries  this  combination  is  explained  as 
entum.  A third  is  written  zi  ik  ru  um.6 

Whether  this  is  to  be  pronounced  zikrum,  as  written,  or 
is  to  be  taken  as  an  ideogram,  is,  as  Kohler  and  IJngnad 
have  pointed  out,7  uncertain.  Most  students  have  taken  the 
writing  as  syllabic,  and  have  connected  the  word  with  a 
common  Assyrian  word  meaning  ‘male.’  It  is  in  all  the 
occurrences  preceded  by  the  sign  sal,  i.e.  sinnistu,  ‘woman.’ 
The  combination  may  be  read  sinnistu  zikrum , which  would 
mean  ‘woman  who  is  a zikrum,'’  or  the  first  word  might  be 
taken  as  construct,  as  has  been  almost  universally  done, 
and  translated  ‘woman  of  the  male.’  Construing  thus, 
it  has  been  the  rule  to  see  in  the  zikrum  a woman  of  low 
morals.  Whether  there  is  any  ground  for  this  view  beyond 
an  uncertain  etymology  and  an  uncertain  translation  of  the 
laws  in  which  the  name  zikrum  occurs,  will  appear,  I hope, 
as  this  inquiry  proceeds. 

A fourth  class,  the  nu  gig  or  kadistu,  occurs  but  once 
(181),  as  does  also  a fifth,  the  nu  bar  or  zermasitum  (181). 
As  understood  by  most  interpreters,  the  kadistu  has  shared 
the  evil  renown  of  the  zikrum. 

This  enumeration  shows  that  there  are  five  classes  of 
these  consecrated  women  mentioned  in  the  Code,  or  seven 
if  we  reckon  three  varieties  of  votary,  the  votary  in  general 
(sal  me),  the  votary  of  Marduk,  and  the  votary  of  the 
convent. 

In  the  first  half  of  the  Code  our  subject  is  mentioned  but 
twice,  40,  110.  Paragraph  40  is  in  the  section  dealing  with 
the  alienation  of  one’s  ownership  in  State  lands.  In  the 
paragraphs  preceding  we  learn  that  certain  classes  of  men 
(the  redu  and  the  bairu ) could  not  sell  field,  orchard,  or 
house,  36.  These  classes,  together  with  the  nasi  bilti, 
could  not  give  real  estate  to  wife  or  child,  nor  in  payment 

5 §§  110,  127,  178,  179.  « §§  178,  179,  180,  187,  192,  193. 

7 Hammurabi’s  Gesetz,  2.  134. 


344  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


for  debt,  38,  though  they  might  so  dispose  of  the  property 
which  they  had  bought  with  their  own  means,  39.  Then 
40  states  that  the  votary,  the  tamkar ,8  or  any  other  ilku 
(except,  of  course,  the  classes  named  in  36-38)  might  sell 
his  or  her  field,  orchard,  or  house.  This  group  of  laws  shows 
that  certain  classes  of  feudal  tenants,  as  the  redu  and  the 
bairu,  were  held  to  a stricter  usage  than  other  classes  in 
regard  to  their  tenure  of  State  lands.  The  reason  probably 
is  that  their  relations  to  the  State  were  more  intimate  and 
important.  They  rendered  military  service,  and  may  have 
been  required  to  live  on  inalienable  State  lands,  that  they 
might  be  always  ready  for  such  service.  Greater  freedom 
was  enjoyed  by  the  votary  and  other  classes  whose  relation 
to  the  State  was  less  intimate,  and  their  functions  less 
important. 

The  second  reference  (110)  is  in  a section  of  four  laws 
regulating  the  sale  of  liquor.  The  liquor  traffic  seems  to 
have  been  in  the  hands  of  women.  In  108  it  is  decreed 
that  the  wineseller  who  deviates  from  the  relative  values  of 
drink  ( sikari ) and  grain  shall  be  thrown  into  the  water 
(drowned).  In  109  if  criminals  congregate  at  her  house, 
and  she  does  not  seize  them  and  lead  them  to  the  ekallim, 
‘palace,  police  station’(?),  she  shall  be  put  to  death.  Ac- 
cording to  110  the  votary  or  sister  of  a god,  “not  living  in 
the  convent,  who  shall  open  a wine  shop  or  shall  enter  one 
to  drink,  shall  be  burned.”  The  last  law  in  the  series  pre- 
scribes how  much  grain  shall  be  paid  at  harvest  time  for 
wine  sold  on  credit  (111). 

This  group  of  laws  shows  that  the  drinking  places  of  the 
time  stood  in  bad  repute.  The  women  engaged  in  the 
business  seem  to  have  been  unscrupulous,  and  their  shops 
were  the  resort  of  evil  doers.  No  votary  might  engage  in 
this  business  or  even  enter  one  of  the  resorts  for  the  pur- 
chase of  drink. 

The  phrase  of  110,  “not  living  in  the  convent,”  shows 


8 The  tamkar  is  a class  of  business  men  or  merchants.  Elsewhere  in  the  Code 
they  appear  as  making  advances  of  money  or  goods  to  the  small  dealer  (100-107), 
and  as  visiting  foreign  lands  for  purposes  of  trade  (281).  Ilku  is  the  term  for  the 
feudal  relation,  or,  as  in  the  present  instance,  for  the  feudal  tenant.  This  feudal 
relation  included  the  redu,  ba'iru,  nasi  bilti,  votary,  tamkar,  and  other  classes. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


345 


that  the  votaries  lived  part  of  the  time  in  the  convent  and 
part  of  the  time  out  of  it,  or  that  some  of  them  lived  in  the 
convent,  while  others  did  not.  It  is  probable  that  all  of 
them  passed  through  a period  of  such  residence.  Those 
residing  in  the  convent  would  naturally  be  so  guarded  and 
occupied  that  there  would  be  no  opportunity  to  keep  or 
to  frequent  wine  shops.  On  the  other  hand,  their  sisters 
not  thus  protected,  but  living  in  their  own  homes  and  lead- 
ing active  lives  of  business,  might  be  tempted  to  engage  in 
the  liquor  traffic,  or  to  endanger  their  reputation  by  visit- 
ing the  wine  shops. 

The  first  topic  in  the  second  half  of  the  Code  is  the  Family ; 
the  first  division  concerns  Man  and  Wife,  and  the  first  law 
(127)  provides  for  the  protection  of  the  reputation  of  woman. 
“If  a man  point  the  finger  (of  suspicion)  at  the  sister  of  a 
god  or  at  the  wife  of  a man,  and  do  not  establish  (the  charge) , 
that  man  shall  be  haled  before  the  judges,  and  his  hair  ( ?) 
shall  be  cut  off,”  that  is,  he  shall  be  sold  into  slavery.  The 
sister  of  a god  is  here  mentioned  before  the  wife  of  a man, 
in  accordance  with  the  principle  that  when  the  same  law 
mentions  sacred  and  secular  things,  the  Code  always  names 
the  sacred  things  first.  This  law  demands  that  the  fair 
name  of  the  religious  devotee  shall  have  the  same  protec- 
tion as  that  of  a man’s  wife. 

The  sacred  women  appear  next  in  a law  regulating  divorce, 
137.  “If  a man  set  his  face  to  divorce  a secondary  wife 
who  has  borne  him  children  or  a votary  who  has  caused 
him  to  have  (usarSu)  children,  unto  that  woman  shall  be 
returned  her  dowry  ( seriictu ),  and  there  shall  be  given  to 
her  a portion(?)  of  field,  orchard,  and  possessions,  and  she 
shall  rear  the  children.  After  she  has  reared  the  children 
there  shall  be  given  to  her  from  the  property  which  was 
given  for  her  children  a share  equal  to  the  share  of  one 
child,  and  the  man  of  her  choice  may  marry  her.” 

In  this  law  the  secondary  wife  ‘ bears  ’ children  to  her  hus- 
band, while  the  votary  ‘provides’  him  with  children.  This 
provision  might  be  made  not  necessarily  by  bearing,  but 
equally  well  by  giving  to  her  husband  a slave  wife  (see  146, 
147),  and  probably  also  by  adoption.  It  is  noteworthy  that 


346  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


the  Code  does  not  use  the  verb  ‘ to  bear  ’ at  all  in  connection 
with  the  votary  wife,  a topic  to  which  I shall  return  later. 
The  law  which  we  are  now  considering  gives  the  children  to 
the  divorced  mother,  with  enough  of  the  paternal  property 
to  provide  for  their  rearing.  On  their  reaching  maturity 
what  remained  of  this  property  was  divided  among  them, 
the  mother  receiving  the  same  as  one  child.  She  was  then 
free  to  remarry,  or  rather  “the  man  of  her  heart”  might 
marry  her,  for  in  the  Code  the  man  always  takes  the  wife, 
never  vice  versa.  A widow  was,  under  certain  restrictions, 
allowed  to  remarry  while  there  were  still  minor  children,  as 
we  learn  from  177.  The  divorced  wife  was  required  first  to 
rear  the  children. 

The  rights  of  wives  is  the  subject  of  144-150,  and  the 
votary  wife  figures  in  four  of  the  laws,  144-147.  Her  rights 
are  defined,  especially  in  her  relations  to  secondary  wives 
and  slave  wives.  The  legislation  is  as  follows : 

1.  “If  a man  marry  a votary,  and  that  votary  give  a 
maid  to  her  husband,  and  cause  him  to  have  ( ustabsi ) chil- 
dren, and  that  man  set  his  face  to  take  a secondary  wife, 
they  shall  not  favor  it,  he  shall  not  take  a secondary  wife,” 
144. 

2.  “If  a man  marry  a votary,  and  she  have  not  caused 
him  to  have  children,  and  he  set  his  face  to  take  a secondary 
wife,  that  man  may  take  a secondary  wife  (and)  may  bring 
her  into  his  house,  but  this  secondary  wife  shall  not  make 
herself  the  equal  of  the  votary,”  145. 

3.  “If  a man  marry  a votary,  and  she  give  a maid  to 
her  husband,  and  that  maid  bear  children,  and  afterwards 
make  herself  the  equal  of  her  mistress  because  she  has 
borne  children,  her  mistress  shall  not  sell  her  for  money; 
she  may  reduce  her  to  servitude,  and  reckon  her  with  the 
maidservants,”  146.  That  is,  the  votary  wife  institutes  the 
relation  between  her  husband  and  her  maid,  and  she  has 
the  power  to  break  that  relation.  Every  married  man  has 
a right  to  children,  and  the  votary  wife  provides  the  pos- 
sibility of  children  by  giving  a slave  wife  to  her  husband. 

4.  “If  she  have  not  borne  children,  her  mistress  may  sell 
her  for  money,”  147.  That  is,  of  course,  in  case  of  insub- 
ordination or  self-exaltation. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


347 


This  group  of  laws  insures  the  votary  wife  against  the 
presence  of  a secondary  wife  in  the  family,  if  the  votary  has 
provided  the  means  of  family  increase  by  giving  a slave 
wife  to  her  husband.  If  no  such  provision  has  been  made, 
the  man  may  take  a secondary  wife,  but  the  latter  shall  not 
be  equal  in  rank  to  the  votary  wife.  If  the  slave  wife,  on 
bearing  children,  make  herself  the  equal  of  the  votary 
wife,  she  may  be  put  to  service  again.  If  she  has  not  borne 
children,  she  may  be  sold  for  her  presumption.  The  posi- 
tion of  the  votary  wife  in  the  family  is  at  all  times  to  be 
superior  to  that  of  the  secondary  wife  or  the  slave  wife. 

It  may  seem  surprising  that  similar  provisions  are  not 
made  in  behalf  of  the  hirtu,  the  regular,  normal  wife,  who 
was  married  at  an  early  age.  But  inasmuch  as  barrenness 
of  such  wives  was  probably  rare,  there  would  be  little  need 
of  such  legislation ; whereas,  if,  as  seems  to  be  the  case,  the 
votary  wife  did  not  ordinarily  bear  children,  there  would 
be  special  need  of  legislation  to  protect  her  position  in  the 
family.  As  votary,  too,  she  doubtless  enjoyed  an  additional 
natural  right  to  a position  of  honor. 

The  next  appearance  of  these  devotees  is  in  the  midst 
of  a long  section  dealing  with  the  inheritance  rights  of 
children.  Among  these  children  the  maidens  consecrated 
to  religion  form  a special  group,  178-182,  and  all  the  classes 
mentioned  in  the  Code  occur  in  this  group,  the  sister  of  a 
god,  the  votary,  votary  of  the  convent,  votary  of  Marduk, 
the  zikrum,  the  kadistu,  and  the  zermasitum. 

From  178,  179  we  learn  the  rights  of  consecrated  daugh- 
ters in  regard  to  the  disposition  of  gift  or  dowry  made  to 
them  by  their  fathers.  In  178  the  daughter  enjoys  the 
income  of  her  dowry,  but  on  her  death  this  dowry  reverts 
to  her  brothers.  In  179  she  is  at  liberty  to  dispose  of  it  as 
she  will  on  her  death. 

178.  “If  a sister  of  a god,  a votary,  or  a zikrum,  whose 
father  has  given  her  a dowry,  has  written  for  her  a tablet 
(and)  in  the  tablet  which  he  has  written  for  her  has  not 
written  that  she  may  dispose  as  she  pleases  of  the  property 
which  she  leaves  behind,  and  (thus)  has  not  given  to  her 
liberty  of  action,  — after  the  death  of  her  father  her  brothers 
shall  take  her  field  and  her  orchard,  and  according  to  the 


348  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 

yield  of  her  share  shall  give  to  her  grain,  oil,  and  wool,  and 
shall  satisfy  her. 

“ If  her  brothers  do  not  give  to  her  grain,  oil,  and  wool, 
according  to  the  yield  of  her  share,  and  do  not  satisfy  her, 
she  may  give  her  field  and  her  orchard  to  a cultivator  of 
her  choice,  and  her  cultivator  shall  support  her. 

“ The  use  of  field,  orchard,  and  whatsoever  her  father  gave 
her  she  shall  enjoy  so  long  as  she  lives,  (but)  she  may  not 
dispose  of  it  for  money,  and  to  another  she  may  not  trans- 
fer it.  Her  inheritance  (i.e.  at  her  death)  belongs  to  her 
brothers.” 

This  law  shows  that  the  consecrated  daughter,  while  en- 
joying the  income,  does  not  normally  have  the  care  of  her 
property.  The  father  sets  aside  for  her  certain  properties, 
and,  as  it  seems,  cares  for  it  himself  during  his  lifetime, 
and  sends  her  the  proceeds.  Then  the  brothers  take  the 
father’s  place  in  the  care  of  the  property,  but  she  may  set 
them  aside  for  another  if  she  choose. 

The  next  law  differs  in  but  one  essential  point.  The  gift 
is  unconditional,  and  the  daughter  has  complete  freedom  as 
testatrix. 

179.  “If  a sister  of  a god,  a votary,  or  a zikrum,  whose 
father  has  given  her  a dowry,  has  written  for  her  a sealed 
tablet,  (and)  in  the  tablet  which  he  has  written  for  her  has 
written  that  she  may  dispose  as  she  pleases  of  the  property 
which  she  leaves  behind,  and  (thus)  has  given  her  liberty 
of  action,  — after  the  death  of  her  father  she  may  give  the 
property  which  she  leaves  as  she  may  choose.  Her  brothers 
have  no  claim  upon  her.” 

In  this  case  it  seems  probable  that  the  gift  was  outright, 
and  that  the  daughter  made  her  own  arrangements  regard- 
ing the  care  of  the  property  and  the  payment  of  the  in- 
come. Whether  she  could  part  with  it  during  her  lifetime 
depends  on  the  translation  of  the  word  warkaza.  I have 
rendered  this  word  by  ‘the  property  which  she  leaves,’ 
but  it  might  equally  well  be  rendered  ‘the  property  which 
is  left  to  her.’  In  view  of  the  frequency  of  the  transfer  of 
property  by  consecrated  women,  as  seen  in  the  contem- 
porary business  records,  the  second  rendering  might  seem 
preferable. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


349 


The  next  three  laws  of  this  group  make  provision  for 
those  consecrated  daughters  to  whom  the  father  has  not 
given  a dowry.  In  180  the  classes  named  are  the  votary 
of  the  convent  and  the  zikrum. 

180.  “If  a father  has  not  given  a dowry  to  his  daughter, 
a votary  of  the  convent  or  a zikrum , after  the  death  of  the 
father  she  shall  inherit  from  the  paternal  estate  a portion 
equal  to  that  of  a son,  and  shall  enjoy  the  use  of  it  so  long 
as  she  lives.  After  her  death  it  belongs  to  her  brothers.” 

181.  “If  a father  has  dedicated  to  a god  (his  daughter) 
as  votary,  kadistu,  or  zermasitum,  and  has  not  given  her  a 
dowry,  after  the  death  of  the  father  she  shall  inherit  from 
the  paternal  estate  one  third  of  the  portion  of  a son,  and 
shall  enjoy  the  use  of  it  so  long  as  she  lives.  After  her 
death  it  belongs  to  her  brothers.” 

Why  the  daughters  of  181  receive  less  than  those  of  180 
is  not  apparent,  as  it  perhaps  would  be  if  we  understood 
the  difference  between  the  classes  themselves.  Those  of 
181  may  have  been  of  lower  rank,  or  may  have  enjoyed 
other  sources  of  income.  The  contrast  in  these  two  laws 
seems  not  to  be  between  the  votary  of  the  convent  and  the 
zikrum  (180)  on  the  one  side,  and  the  votary,  kadistu  and 
zermasitum  (181),  on  the  other,  but  in  181  ‘votary’  seems 
to  be  a more  general  term,  embracing  the  kadistu  and  the 
zermasitum.  If  this  be  so,  the  translation  of  181  should  read, 
“If  a father  has  dedicated  to  a god  his  daughter  as  votary, 
be  it  as  kadistu  or  &s~  zermasitum,”  and  so  forth. 

The  last  law  in  this  series  (182)  relates  to  the  votary  of 
Marduk  of  Babylon  who  has  not  been  provided  for  by  her 
father.  On  his  death  she  receives  the  same  share  of  the 
estate  as  the  daughters  provided  for  in  the  law  just  con- 
sidered. But  there  are  two  differences.  It  is  expressly 
stated  that  she  does  not  have  the  care  of  the  property,  and 
on  her  death  her  share  does  not  revert  to  her  brothers. 
Her  station  as  votary  of  the  chief  god  of  Babylon  must 
have  been  one  of  great  honor.  Why,  then,  does  she  receive 
less  than  some  of  the  other  consecrated  women  ? There 
may  have  been  for  her  also,  as  just  suggested  for  the  classes 
named  in  181,  sources  of  income  connected  with  her  office 
which  made  a larger  portion  of  the  paternal  estate  unneces- 


350  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


sary.  Such  a source  would  be  the  large  endowments  of  the 
temple  of  Marduk  at  Babylon. 

The  law  reads  as  follows:  “If  a father  has  not  given  a 
dowry  to  his  daughter,  a votary  of  Marduk  of  Babylon, 
and  has  not  written  for  her  a sealed  tablet,  after  the  death 
of  the  father  she  shall  inherit  with  her  brothers  from  the 
paternal  estate  one  third  of  a son’s  portion,  but  she  shall 
not  have  the  management  thereof.  The  votary  of  Marduk 
on  her  death  may  give  (her  property)  to  whomsoever  she 
please.” 

The  votaries  of  Marduk  seem  to  have  led  a more  secluded 
life  than  the  votaries  of  the  sun  god.  The  latter,  at  all 
events,  are  more  prominent  in  the  business  transactions  of 
the  time,  but  this  may  result  from  their  being  more  numer- 
ous, and  thus  appearing  more  frequently  in  the  records. 

The  word  for  dowry  in  this  group  of  laws  (178-182)  is 
seriktu,  and  is  the  same  word  that  is  used  for  a paternal 
gift  to  a daughter  entering  real  marriage.  Consecration  is 
viewed  as  a marriage  of  the  maiden  to  a god. 

It  has  already  been  remarked  that  the  term  sal  me, 
‘votary,’  may  be  a general  and  not  a special  title.  The 
same  may  be  the  case  with  the  term  nin  dingir,  ‘sister 
of  a god.’  The  word  zikrum  has  been  variously  rendered 
by  students  of  the  Code;  as  ‘femme  publique’  by  Scheil,9 
‘hure(?)’  by  Kohler  and  Peiser,10  ‘buhldirne’  by  Winck- 
ler,11  ‘courtesan’  by  Cook,12  ‘hure(?)’  by  Kohler  and 
Ungnad,13  and  ‘femme-male’  by  Dhorme.14  These  render- 
ings probably  take  the  word  zikrum  as  meaning  ‘male, 
man,’  and  the  sign  sal,  ‘woman,’  which  precedes  it  as 
in  the  construct  relation,  and  thus  get  ‘woman  of  the  man,’ 
in  the  sense  of  ‘ prostitute.’  But  sal  may  be  determina- 
tive, in  which  case  zikrum  cannot  mean  ‘man,’  but  is  the 
name  of  this  class  of  women.  If  we  were  sure  that  the  first 
two  consonants  in  the  word  were  z and  k,  we  might  connect 


9 V.  Scheil,  La  Loi  de  Hammourabi,  2d  ed.,  Paris,  1904,  p.  38. 

10  Hammurabi’s  Gesetz,  1.  53. 

11  Hugo  Winckler,  Die  Gesetze  Hammurabis,  Leipzig,  1904,  pp.  52  f. 

12  S.  A.  Cook,  The  Laws  of  Moses  and  theCode  of  Hammurabi,  London,  1903, 

p.  148.  13  Hammurabi’s  Gesetz,  2.  134. 

14  Paul  Dhorme,  La  Religion  Assyro-Babylonienne,  Paris,  1910,  p.  300. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


351 


it  with  the  very  common  Assyrian  stem  zkr  meaning  ‘to 
say,  speak,  mention.’ 

If  a particular  convent  is  meant  in  the  name,  ‘votary  of 
the  convent,’  it  may  have  been  one  connected  with  the 
worship  of  the  sun,  Samas.  The  convent,  gagum,  is  occa- 
sionally mentioned  in  the  records  of  business  transactions, 
and  in  such  a way  as  to  indicate  that  it  was  a Samas  estab- 
lishment. It  seems  to  have  been  a place  of  considerable 
extent,  and  at  its  great  gate  payments  were  sometimes 
made.15 

So  far  as  appears  from  this  particular  group  of  laws 
( 179-1 82),  these  consecrated  women  were  expected  to  live 
the  celibate  life,  and  we  have  already  seen  that  the  reputa- 
tion for  chastity  of  a ‘sister  of  a god’  was  no  less  sacred 
than  that  of  a married  woman,  127.  But  from  another 
group  of  laws  we  have  seen  that  there  is  provision  for  the 
marriage  of  votaries,  137,  144-147.  How  can  the  two 
groups  be  reconciled  ? The  difference  hardly  lies  in  the 
difference  of  class  between  the  sister  of  a god  and  the  votary. 
It  may  well  be  that  the  office  of  the  consecrated  women 
was  not  in  all  cases  lifelong,  though  the  title  may  have  been. 
And  it  may  be  that  these  women,  when  they  married  at  all, 
married  as  a rule  late  in  life  after  the  age  of  childbearing 
had  passed. 

It  is,  at  least,  worthy  of  note  that  there  is  not  in  the 
Code  any  mention  of  children  by  a ‘votary,’  nor  indeed 
by  a member  of  any  class  of  these  consecrated  women  with 
the  possible  exception  of  the  zilcrum,  which  will  be  discussed 
below.  In  the  marriage  laws  in  which  the  votary  figures 
it  seems  to  be  assumed  that  she  does  not  bear.  The  specific 
word  for  bearing,  aladu,  is  never  applied  to  her,  though  it  is 
used  about  twenty  times  of  other  classes  of  wife  ( assatu , hirtu, 
the  secondary  wife,  and  the  widow  who  has  married  again) . 
The  votary  wife  ‘causes  her  husband  to  have’  children 
( usarsi , ustabsi).  Thus,  in  paragraph  137  (p.  345,  above) 
the  secondary  wife  has  borne  children  to  her  husband  ( uldu ), 
while  the  votary  has  caused  him  to  have  children  ( usarsu ; 
cf.  also  145,  uSarsi).  Similarly,  in  144  a votary  wife  gives 

16  In  Cuneiform  Texts  from  Babylonian  Tablets,  8.  44  (=  Bu.  88-5-12,  233), 
rent  is  to  be  paid  to  a votary  of  Samas  in  the  gate  of  the  convent. 


352  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


to  her  husband  a slave  wife,  and  thus  causes  him  to  have 
children  ( ustabsi ).  This  consistent  difference  in  the  use  of 
terms  can  hardly  be  accidental,  and  the  conclusion  seems 
natural  that,  as  a rule  at  least,  the  votary  wife  was  barren. 
If,  as  already  suggested,  her  marriage  was  late  in  life,  the 
reason  for  this  barrenness  will  be  understood.16  That 
barrenness  always  followed  the  marriage  of  a votary  was, 
however,  probably  not  the  ease.  There  is  at  least  one 
marriage  of  a Marduk  votary  recorded  with  the  mention  of 
children.  See  p.  357  f.,  below. 

After  the  passages  thus  far  examined  relating  to  conse- 
crated women,  only  the  zikrum  is  mentioned  again  in  the 
Code.  In  the  section  treating  of  the  adoption  of  children 
(185-193)  she  appears  three  times.  In  this  section  the 
general  law  of  adoption  is  first  stated.  “ If  a man  has 
adopted  a child  in  his  own  name,  and  has  reared  it,  that 
child  ( tarbitum ) 17  may  not  be  reclaimed,”  i.e.  of  course, 
by  his  real  parents,  185.  This  is  followed  by  a law  con- 
templating the  return  of  an  adopted  child.  “If  a man  has 
adopted  a child,  (and)  at  the  time  of  adopting  him  has 
coerced  (?)  his  father  and  his  mother,  that  child  ( tarbitum ) 
shall  return  to  his  father's  house,”  186. 

Then  follows  the  law,  187,  “The  child  of  a manzaz  panim, 

16  C.  H.  W.  Johns  has  also  noted  the  absence  of  children  from  the  marriage  of 
votaries,  and  finds  its  explanation  in  the  theory  of  perpetual  virginity,  Hastings’s 
Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  6.  591,  No.  2.  This  extraordinary  view  could  not  be  ac- 
cepted without  the  strongest  support.  The  proof  passage  seems  to  be  Cuneiform 
Texts,  2.  34,  referred  to  by  Johns  in  his  Babylonian  and  Assyrian  Laws,  Contracts 
and  Letters,  p.  137,  thus  : “Very  singular  are  the  cases  in  which  a votary  marries. 
We  know  from  the  code  that  this  sometimes  took  place ; but  the  votary  seems  to  have 
been  expected,  though  married,  to  keep  her  vow  of  virginity.  In  one  case  we  read 
that  a woman  first  devotes  her  daughter  ullilsi,  then  marries  her,  and  declares  at 
the  same  time  that  she  is  vowed,  ellit,  and  that  no  one  has  any  claim  on  her.” 

It  is  on  the  last  expression  that  Johns  seems  to  found  his  argument  for  perpetual 
virginity.  The  expression  does  not  mean,  however,  that  the  woman  is  not  to  be  in  the 
full  sense  of  the  word  a wife,  but  that  no  outsider  has  any  claim  on  the  bride  for 
service,  there  is  no  debt  resting  on  her,  or  something  of  that  kind.  The  expression 
is  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  in  passages  which  leave  no  doubt  as  to  its  general 
meaning,  as  Cuneiform  Texts,  2.  36 ; 4.  42 ; 8.  7. 

The  suggestion  of  perpetual  virginity  was  made  by  Johns  in  an  earlier  article  in 
the  American  Journal  of  Semitic  Languages  and  Literatures,  19.  96-107,  especially 
p.  104.  This  excellent  article  expresses  the  same  favorable  opinion  of  the  conse- 
crated women  as  that  which  is  defended  in  the  present  paper. 

17  Tarbitum  in  185  and  186  designates  the  child  as  reared,  or  as  adopted  for 
rearing. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


353 


a muzaz  ekallim , and  the  child  of  a zikrum  may  not  be  re- 
claimed.” The  manzaz  panim  is  a high  dignitary  or  official, 
and  the  zikrum  is  the  consecrated  woman  whom  we  have 
already  met  three  times  in  the  Code.  Much  depends  on 
the  proper  understanding  of  this  passage.  Is  the  meaning 
this,  that  a child  born  to  a manzaz  panim  or  to  a zikrum, 
and  adopted  by  some  other  person,  may  not  be  reclaimed 
by  its  real  parent  ? Or  this,  that  if  a manzaz  panim  or  a 
zikrum  has  adopted  a child,  its  real  parent  may  not  reclaim 
it  ? 

Either  view  is  possible,  and  some  of  the  translations 
preserve  the  ambiguity  of  the  original.  Thus  Harper : 
“One  may  not  bring  claim  for  the  son  of  a ner.se. ga, 
who  is  a palace  guard,  or  the  son  of  a devotee.”  18  Kohler 
and  Peiser  are  quite  as  ambiguous,19  and  also  Scheil,20  who 
renders:  “L’enfant  d’un  favori,  familier  du  palais,  ou  celui 
d’une  femme  publique  ne  peut  etre  reclame.”  In  another 
point  Kohler  and  Peiser  agree  with  Scheil,  namely,  in 
giving  a bad  name  to  the  zikrum.  To  the  latter  she  is  a 
‘femme  publique,’  and  to  the  former  a ‘hure.’  Winckler 
renders : “Der  Sohn  eines  Buhlen  im  Palastdienste,  und  der 
Sohn  einer  Bulildirne  kann  nicht  abverlangt  werden.”  21  In 
a note  he  asks  : “1st  hiernach  anzunehmen,  dass  Kinder  von 
Buhle  und  Bulildirne  als  liku  (s.  zu  15a,  62)  in  den  Palast 
kommen,  um  dort  zu  dienen,  also  dem  Konig  gehoren?” 
This  language  seems  to  imply  that  the  children  are  the  real 
offspring  of  the  classes  named.  Muller  goes  yet  further, 
with  the  statement  that  the  largest  share  of  adopted 
children  came  from  such  parents  as  might  according  to  the 
law  beget  and  bear  children,  but  not  own  them  (“die  nach 
dem  Gesetze  wohl  Kinder  zeugen  und  gebaren,  aber  keine 
haben  durften  ”).22  Johns  understands  that  “if  a man 
wished  to  adopt  the  child  of  a votary,  he  could  do  so,  and 
there  was  no  legal  representative  to  claim  the  child  from 
him.  In  other  words,  the  votary  had  no  legal  power  over 


18  Robert  F.  Harper,  The  Code  of  Hammurabi,  Chicago,  1904,  p.  71. 

19  Hammurabi’s  Gesetz,  1.  56.  That  the  zikrum  is  in  their  view  engaged  in  official 

prostitution,  however,  appears  from  p.  109.  20  La  Loi  de  Hammourabi,  p.  39. 

21  Die  Gesetze  Hammurabis,  pp.  56  f. 

22  D.  H.  Muller,  Die  Gesetze  Hammurabis,  p.  145. 


354  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


her  child.” 23  But  if  a consecrated  woman  might  adopt 
children,  as  we  shall  soon  see  was  the  case,  why  might  she 
not  also  hold  her  own  children  ? See  below,  p.  358. 

The  next  four  laws  do  not  mention  the  zikrum.  They 
are  in  substance  as  follows  : 

188.  If  an  artisan  adopt  a child  and  teach  him  a handi- 
craft, that  child  may  not  be  reclaimed. 

189.  If  he  do  not  so  teach  him,  the  child  may  return  to 
his  real  father’s  house. 

190.  If  a man  adopt  a child  and  rear  him,  and  do  not 
make  him  the  equal  of  his  own  sons,  that  child  may  return 
to  his  father’s  house. 

191.  This  law  gives  the  conditions  under  which  an  adopted 
son  may  be  sent  away.  He  shall  not  go  empty  handed,  but 
shall  receive  one  third  of  a son’s  share,  and  may  then  be 
dismissed. 

Then  come  two  laws  in  which  the  zikrum  appears 
again. 

192.  “If  the  son  of  a manzaz  panim  or  the  son  of  a zik- 
rum say  to  the  father  who  has  reared  him  or  to  the  mother 
who  has  reared  him,  Thou  art  not  my  father,  Thou  art 
not  my  mother,  his  tongue  shall  be  cut  out.” 

193.  “If  the  son  of  a manzaz  panim  or  the  son  of  a zik- 
rum learn  of  his  father’s  house,  and  despise ( ?)  the  father 
who  reared  him  or  the  mother  who  reared  him,  and  go  to 
his  father's  house,  his  eye  shall  be  put  out.” 

The  offence  in  192  is  denial  of  sonship  to  the  adopting 
parent,  and  that  in  193  is  running  away  and  returning  to 
one’s  real  father. 

It  is  a matter  of  consequence  to  determine  whether  the 
zikrum  is  the  woman  who  bears  or  the  woman  who  adopts 
the  child,  because  on  the  answer  will  depend  one’s  view  of  her 
character.  Nearly  or  quite  all  translators  have  assumed 
that  she  is  the  real  mother,  and  that  she  is  unmarried,  and 
hence  that  she  is  a low  character.  Dhorme,  for  instance, 
calls  her  the  “femme-male  qui  se  prostitue  a tout  venant.”  24 
Now,  in  opposition  to  this  view  several  considerations  may 
be  urged. 

23  C.  H.  W.  Johns,  in  the  American  Journal  of  Semitic  Languages  and  Literatures, 
19.  103.  24  La  Religion  Assyro-Babylonienne,  p.  300  f. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


355 


1.  In  the  contemporary  records  we  occasionally  meet  with 
accounts  of  the  adoption  of  children  by  consecrated  women.25 

2.  In  the  three  laws  now  under  examination  (187,  192, 
193)  the  zikrurn  is  mentioned  with  the  manzaz  panim,  who 
was  a high  official.  It  seems  not  likely  that  the  children  of 
such  official  would  be  given  to  another  person.  But  if  he 
be  the  adopting  parent  in  these  laws,  the  same  must  hold  of 
the  zikrum. 

3.  The  law  in  193  says,  “If  the  son  of  a manzaz  panim  or 
the  son  of  a zikrum  learn  of  his  father’s  house,  and  despise  ( ?) 
the  father  who  reared  him,  or  the  mother  who  reared  him, 
and  go  to  his  fathers  house,  his  eye  shall  be  put  out.”  If 
the  zikrum  be  the  real  and  not  the  adopting  mother,  why  does 
not  the  law  say  Team  of  his  father’s  house  or  his  mother  s 
house,’  and,  ‘go  to  his  father’s  house  or  his  mother  s house  ’ ? 
“Learn  of  his  father’s  house,”  “go  to  his  father’s  house,” 
might  be  said  of  the  manzaz  panim,  but  not  of  the  zikrum, 
unless  the  latter  be  married,  in  which  case  she  is  not  the  de- 
graded creature  which  the  translations  make  her. 

4.  In  178  and  179  the  zikrum  is  named  with  the  sister  of 
the  god  and  the  votary,  and  in  180  with  the  votary  of  the 
convent.  She  seems  to  stand  on  an  equal  footing  with 
these  before  the  law.  Her  dowry  rights  are  as  carefully 
defined  as  theirs. 

5.  The  zikrum  of  180  receives  three  times  as  large  a share 
of  her  father’s  estate  as  does  the  votary  of  Marduk  in  182. 
This  would  hardly  be  so  if  she  were  greatly  inferior  in  charac- 
ter to  a Marduk  votary. 

It  seems  to  me  probable  that  the  zikrum  spoken  of  in  these 
laws  was  not  married,  and  certain  that  she  was  the  adopting 
and  not  the  real  mother.  What  the  ancient  Babylonians 
understood  by  these  laws  would  therefore  be  as  follows. 

192.  If  a child  adopted  by  a manzaz  panim  or  by  a zikrum 
say  to  the  father  or  to  the  mother  who  has  reared  him,  Thou 
art  not  my  father,  Thou  art  not  my  mother,  his  tongue  shall 
be  cut  out. 

193.  If  a child  adopted  by  a manzaz  panim  or  by  a zikrum 
learn  of  the  house  of  his  real  father,  and  despise  ( ?)  the  father 


25  See  below,  p.  358. 


356  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


who  has  reared  him  or  the  mother  who  has  reared  him,  and 
go  thither,  his  eye  shall  be  put  out. 

In  the  light  of  this  exposition  No.  187  may  be  paraphrased 
thus  : A child  adopted  by  a vianzaz  panim,  a muzaz  of  the 
palace,  or  a child  adopted  by  a zikrum,  may  not  be  reclaimed 
by  its  real  parent. 

One  is  tempted  to  speculate  as  to  the  reason  of  this,  but 
such  speculation  would  have  as  little  value  as  the  reasons 
advanced  to  account  for  the  law  by  those  who  understand 
that  the  zikrum  is  the  real  mother. 

We  have  now  passed  in  review  the  seven  passages  of 
the  Code,  covering  sixteen  laws,  touching  on  the  subject  of 
consecrated  women.  Under  whatever  designation  these 
women  appear,  as  votary,  votary  of  the  convent,  votary 
of  Marduk  of  Babylon,  sister  of  a god,  zikrum,  kadistu , 
zermasitum,  they  are  always  spoken  of  with  respect.  The 
lawgiver  meant  to  protect  their  good  name  and  to  define 
their  rights  in  respect  to  the  great  topics  with  which  the 
Code  connects  them,  namely,  sale  of  land,  wine  shops, 
slander,  divorce,  marital  rights,  inheritance,  and  adoption 
of  children. 

If  this  argument  is  correct,  the  Code  of  Hammurabi 
furnishes  no  basis  for  an  indictment  of  any  class  of  these 
consecrated  women. 

Except  in  one  or  two  details,26  Johns  has  given  a correct 
and  comprehensive,  though  brief,  report  of  the  subject. 
“Nowhere  in  the  Code,”  he  writes,27  “or  elsewhere  is  there 
any  trace  of  the  evil  reputation  which  Greek  writers  assign 
to  these  ladies,  and  the  translations  which  make  them 
prostitutes,  or  unchaste,  are  not  to  be  accepted.”  But  even 
Johns  understands  that  the  zikrum  of  193  is  the  real  and 
not  the  adopting  mother.  “If  she  broke  her  vow  and  had 
children,  they  were  not  recognized  as  in  her  power  ; they  could 
be  adopted  by  any  one  without  her  having  power  to  claim 
them  back.”  Most  improbable  ! Slander  of  a sister  of  a 
god  was  severely  punished,  127.  We  should  expect  that  a 
lapse  from  chastity  by  one  of  these  consecrated  women,  if 

26  The  chief  of  these  exceptions  is  the  statement,  already  noted,  p.  352,  above, 
that  votaries  who  married  remained  virgins. 

27  Hastings's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  6.  591. 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


357 


known,  would  be  punished  as  severely  as  the  lapse  of  a 
married  woman ; in  other  words,  by  death,  129. 

One  wishes  that  the  lawgiver  had  told  us  something  of  the 
religious  functions  of  these  women.  But  of  this  he  gives 
not  a trace.  His  eye  was  firmly  fixed,  as  we  have  seen,  on 
civil  not  religious  ends,  and  dedicated  women  are  mentioned 
not  for  their  own  sake,  nor  for  the  sake  of  religion,  but  be- 
cause they  are  a special  class  in  the  community,  and  have 
important  relations  to  the  great  themes  of  the  Code. 

The  best  commentary  on  the  Code  is  the  mass  of  contem- 
porary records  of  private  and  social  transactions.  Many 
hundreds  of  these  from  the  collections  in  the  museums  of 
London,  Paris,  Berlin,  Constantinople,  and  Philadelphia 
have  now  been  published.  These  records  give  us  a rich 
picture  of  the  social  conditions  during  the  times  of  the 
Hammurabi  dynasty.28 

In  this  picture  nothing  is  more  noticeable  than  the 
prominence  of  the  consecrated  women  with  whom  the  Code 
has  made  us  familiar.  Here  we  meet  not  only  the  votary  of 
Marduk,29  but  also  the  votary  of  Ninib,30  and  with  extraor- 
dinary frequency  the  votary  of  Samas.  We  meet  also  the 
sister  of  the  god  Suzianna,31  the  votary  of  Zamama,32  the 
kadistu  of  Adad,33  and  the  zermasitum ,34  This  list  makes  it 
probable  that  each  of  the  great  gods  had  a class  of  women 
consecrated  to  him. 

Occasional  evidence  of  the  marriage  of  one  of  these  women 
occurs.  Thus,  Lamazatum,  who  is  both  votary  of  Marduk 

28  Kohler  and  Ungnad,  in  volumes  3-5  of  theirv  Hammurabi’s  Gesetz,  Leipzig, 
1909-1911,  have  done  a great  service  in  making  some  fourteen  hundred  of  the  most 
interesting  among  them  accessible  to  a larger  circle  of  readers  in  German  trans- 
lation. 

29  Cuneiform  Texts,  8.  8 (=  Bu.  91-5-9,  2484);  8.  26  (=  Bu.  88-5-12,  42); 
Thureau-Dangin,  Lettres  et  Contrats,  Paris,  1910,  Nos.  147,  157. 

30  Arno  Poebel,  Babylonian  Legal  and  Business  Documents  from  the  Time  of  the 
First  Dynasty  of  Babylon,  Philadelphia,  1909,  Nos.  6,  31,  and  45. 

31  Poebel,  No.  8.  32  Thureau-Dangin,  Lettres  et  Contrats,  No.  157. 

33  Thureau-Dangin,  No.  146.  See  also  Cuneiform  Texts,  6.  42  (=  Bu.  91-5-9, 
2470),  where  a Kadistu,  named  Eristum,  and  her  sister,  a votary  of  Samas,  divide 
an  inheritance. 

34  Cuneiform  Texts,  8.  34  ( = Bu.  88-5-12,  10).  Cf . Cuneiform  Texts,  8.  8 ( = Bu. 
91-5-9,  2484),  where  we  read  that  Haliatum,  another  Marduk  votary,  had  a daughter 
named  Iltani. 


358  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


and  zermasitum,  marries,  and  it  is  agreed  that  her  children 
are  to  be  her  heirs.34  Another  Marduk  votary  and  her 
husband  adopt  a son,  and  the  record  makes  the  provision 
that  if  they  should  get  children,  the  adopted  son  should 
always  be  recognized  as  eldest  brother.35  There  is  mention 
of  the  marriage  of  a zermasitum  named  Labazi.36  The 
children  of  votaries  are  also  adopted  by  others.  Thus,  a 
man  and  his  wife  adopt  the  son  of  Huzalatum,  votary  of 
Samas.37  In  another  record  Amat-Samas,  a Samas  votary, 
gives  her  daughter  in  marriage,  and  receives  from  the  groom 
five  shekels  of  silver.38  In  neither  of  the  cases  just  cited  is 
any  father  named.  But  we  may  be  sure  either  that  the  vo- 
taries were  or  had  been  married,  or  that  the  daughters  were 
such  by  adoption.  Zamidum,  a kadistu  of  the  god  Adad, 
adopts  the  daughter  of  Iabliatum,  with  the  privilege  of 
selling  the  child  in  case  it  should  renounce  the  adopting 
mother.33  A Samas  votary,  named  Amat-Samas,  gives  in 
marriage  to  her  brother  her  daughter,  apparently  an  adopted 
daughter,  with  the  provision  that  so  long  as  the  giver  lives 
the  brother  shall  support  her.39  Such  a provision  is  common 
in  records  of  adoption,  and  shows  that  one  of  the  objects  in  the 
adoption  of  children  was  to  make  sure  of  a support  in  one’s 
old  age. 

But  the  greatest  activity  of  these  women  appears  in  busi- 
ness transactions,  including  all  forms  of  trading  in  real  estate, 
produce,  money,  and  slaves.  They  divide  the  paternal  prop- 
erty with  their  brothers,  and  are  parties  to  lawsuits  both  as 
plaintiff  and  as  defendant.  Some  of  them  are  wealthy  and 
of  high  station.  Babilitum,  a votary  of  Samas,  who  brings 
successful  suit  against  her  three  brothers  to  recover  her  share 
in  the  estate  of  their  father,  receives  as  her  portion  ten 
slaves,  besides  other  property.40  But  the  lady  of  highest 


35  Bruno  Meissner,  Beitrage  zum  Altbabylonischen  Privatrecht,  Leipzig,  1893, 
No.  94  . 36  Cuneiform  Texts,  8.  16  ( = Bu.  88-5-12,  33). 

37  H.  Ranke,  Babylonian  Legal  and  Business  Documents,  Philadelphia,  1906, 
No.  17.  38  Cuneiform  Texts,  4.  39  (=  Bu.  88-5-12,  617). 

39  Thureau-Dangin,  No.  90.  In  Cuneiform  Texts,  8.  7 (=  Bu.  91-5-9,  2183),  a 
mother  consecrates  two  of  her  daughters  to  Samas  with  the  stipulation  that  they 
shall  support  her  so  long  as  she  lives.  Another  Samas  votary  gives  her  property  to 
her  granddaughter,  by  whom  she  is  to  be  supported  so  long  as  she  lives,  Cuneiform 
Texts,  8.  17  (=  Bu.  88-5-12,  39).  40  Cuneiform  Texts,  6.  7 (=  Bu.  91-5-9,  272). 


DAVID  GORDON  LYON 


359 


birth  is  a certain  Iltani,  a Samas  votary,  daughter  of  the 
king.  Such  a person  is  mentioned  on  three  tablets  as  a 
lender  of  grain.41  These  women  were  as  a rule  evidently 
living  in  their  own  houses.  That  large  numbers  of  them  were 
unmarried  we  may  conclude  from  the  circumstance  that  the 
mention  of  husbands  is  so  rare.  But  many  others  doubtless 
were  married.  As  married  women  they  are  less  likely  to  be 
mentioned  in  the  records,  or  when  they  are  mentioned  there 
is  less  probability  that  their  position  as  consecrated  women 
would  also  be  noted. 

The  record  cited  in  note 32  is  of  special  interest,  because  it 
is  a lawsuit  involving  several  orders  of  consecrated  women. 
One  of  these  is  married,  and  a second  has  a son.  The  story 
is,  in  brief,  as  follows:  A certain  man,  named  Addi-liblut, 
is  married  to  a Marduk  votary,  named  Belisunu.  The  latter 
had  bought  some  real  estate  from  a kadistu,  named  Ilusa- 
hegal,  who  in  turn  had  previously  bought  it  from  a votary 
of  Zamama.  The  kadistu  claims  that  she  had  never  been 
paid  by  the  Marduk  votary.  In  the  course  of  the  story 
mention  is  made  of  a son  of  the  kadistu,  who  had  witnessed 
the  sale  and  had  affixed  his  seal  to  the  tablet.  The  judges, 
after  weighing  the  evidence  on  both  sides,  refuse  the  claim 
of  Ilusa-hegal,  and  decree  that  neither  she,  nor  her  children, 
nor  her  relations,  shall  ever  again  demand  payment  for  the 
property  involved  in  the  suit.  Of  what  god  Ilusa-hegal  was 
a kadistu  we  are  not  informed,  but  we  do  know  from  the 
impression  of  her  seal  on  the  tablet  that  she  was  devoted  to 
the  worship  of  Adad  and  his  spouse,  Sala.  The  seal  im- 
pression, which  is  in  four  lines,  reads  : “ Ilusa-hegal,  daughter 
of  Ea-ellatsu,  worshipper  of  Adad  and  Sala.” 

But  all  this  varied  activity,  the  account  of  which  might 
easily  be  extended  to  large  proportions,  is  secular  in  character. 
What  the  religious  functions  of  these  women  were  we  learn 
as  little  from  the  commercial  and  social  records  as  from  the 
Hammurabi  Code. 

It  does  not  fall  within  the  scope  of  this  paper  to  inquire 
what  we  may  learn  about  consecrated  women  from  other 


41  Meissner,  Beitrage,  No.  24;  Cuneiform  Texts,  8.  33  (=  Bu.  91-5-9,  487); 
Thureau-Dangin,  No.  102. 


360  CONSECRATED  WOMEN  OF  THE  HAMMURABI  CODE 


native  sources.  But  I may  at  least  mention  that  we  occa- 
sionally meet  with  these  characters  in  the  other  classes  of  the 
literature. 

In  the  Gilgamesh  Epic,  for  instance,  Ishtar  of  Erech,  the 
goddess  of  love,  appears  as  wooing  the  hero,  and  as  repulsed 
by  him  for  her  former  adventures  and  her  fickleness.42  She  is 
attended  by  her  maidens,  the  harimati  and  the  samhati,  who 
are  represented  as  lax  in  morals.  In  the  same  Epic  the  story 
how  one  of  them,  called  both  harimtu  and  samhat,  brought 
Eabani  into  Erech  by  her  wiles,  is  related  with  much  realistic 
detail.43  And  when  Gilgamesh  and  Eabani  slew  the  bull 
of  Ann,  Ishtar  gathered  about  her  the  Samhati  and  the  hari- 
mdti  and  set  up  a lamentation  over  the  bull.44  Erech  is  called 
“the  city  of  the  kizreti,  the  samhati,  and  the  harimati .”  45 
These  passages  certainly  indicate  that  there  were  excesses 
committed  in  connection  with  the  worship  of  Ishtar  of  Erech. 
We  have  seen  mention  of  a kadistu  of  Adad.  Doubtless 
devotees  of  various  gods  have  the  same  title.  Those  of 
Ishtar  might  easily  have  brought  the  title  into  disrepute, 
since  some  of  them  at  least  were  unchaste.  But  we  may  not 
therefore  conclude  that  there  was  anything  improper  about 
the  kadistu  of  the  Code.  It  would  be  an  unwarranted  as- 
sumption to  identify  her  with  Ishtar  devotees,  or  to  conclude 
that  because  some  persons  who  bore  the  name  were  unchaste 
all  such  persons  were. 

In  the  magical  literature  likewise  we  encounter  the  kadistu 
and  the  zermasitum,  as  in  Cuneiform  Inscriptions  of  Western 
Asia,  4. 50,  col.  1, lines  44-45.  In  the  reference  given  the  names 
are  used  as  titles  of  the  witch,  who  was  an  object  of  hatred  and 
of  dread.  But  such  passages  do  not  seem  to  require  any 
modification  of  the  impression  which  the  Code  makes  as  to 
the  character  of  the  consecrated  women  in  whose  behalf  it 
legislates. 

42  Tablet  6,  columns  1-2.  43  Tablet  1,  column  4.  44  Tablet  6,  column  5. 

45  Edward  J.  Harper,  in  Beitrage  zur  Assyriologie,  2.  479,  line  6. 


FIGURINES  OF  SYRO-HITTITE  ART 


Richard  James  Horatio  Gottheil 
Columbia  University 

During  the  last  twenty-five  years  or  so,  various  figurines 
have  been  unearthed  in  northern  Syria  and  in  eastern  Asia 
Minor  which  are  of  interest  from  various  points  of  view, 
and  around  which  many  questions  cluster  regarding  their 
provenance  and  their  significance.  In  Asia  Minor  the  finds 
have  been  made  as  far  west  as  Angora,  as  far  north  as  Ama- 
sia,  and  as  far  south  as  Konia  (Iconium) ; in  Syria,  at  Marash, 
Homs,  and  in  the  Lebanon  mountains.  But  that  the  extent 
of  country  covered  is  still  greater  may  be  seen  from  the  fact 
that  a mould  for  making  such  figurines  which  has  been  in 
the  Louvre  for  many  years  is  said  to  have  come  (somewhat 
vaguely,  it  is  true)  from  Phoenicia.  This  is  of  especial 
interest  because  two  of  the  four  figurines  which  I propose 
to  discuss  here  are  said  very  circumstantially  to  have  been 
unearthed  in  ancient  Tyre. 

I have  given  the  name  ‘ Syro-Hittite  ’ to  this  species 
of  art,  quite  conscious  that  this  is  woefully  a misnomer. 
The  term  is  used  simply  for  the  want  of  one  that  is  better 
and  equally  comprehensive.  It  has  been  pointed  out  very 
properly  that  the  figurines  belong  to  various  strata  of  civil- 
ization and  to  various  forms  of  early  Mediterranean  art. 
But  a number  of  them  have  been  found  in  regions  where 
Hittites  are  known  to  have  dwelt,  and  the  designation  has, 
therefore,  a certain  ambiguous  warrant.  Four  of  them  are 
to  be  found  on  the  accompanying  illustrations. 

(a)  The  first  of  the  four  figurines  is  one  of  those  said  to  have 
been  dug  up  at  Tyre.  It  is  made  of  a greenish  bronze,  and, 
though  the  workmanship  is  unfinished,  Greek  influence  is  quite 
apparent.  I think  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  it  is  in- 

361 


362 


FIGURINES  OF  SYRO-HITTITE  ART 


tended  to  represent  the  god  Pan  — the  aiyoirpoaunros  teal  rpayo- 
crrceXris,  as  Herodotus  (ii.  46)  calls  him.  The  goat-like  legs  of 
the  figure  are  a sufficient  indication.  The  face,  also,  shows  char- 
acteristics that  confirm  this  supposition : snub  nose,  pro- 
truding lips,  and  the  long  beard.  Similar  peculiarities  are 
to  be  seen,  e.g.,  on  two  marble  statues  in  the  National  Mu- 
seum at  Athens,  or  on  the  marble  stat  ue  of  Pan  taking  a thorn 
out  of  a person’s  foot  in  the  Vatican  collection.1  In  addi- 
tion, the  head  is  capped  by  a helmet,  instead  of  the  more 
usual  truncated  horns.  This  leads  to  the  further  supposi- 
tion that  the  peculiar  form  of  the  god  represented  here  is 
that  of  the  Tlav  ajpaTmT^,  ‘Pan  the  shepherd-god  of 
war.  ’ 2 He  seems  to  be  pictured  in  the  figurine  either  as 
dancing  or  as  marching,  the  right  leg  stepping  forward  and 
the  arms  outstretched.  What  he  originally  held  in  his  hands 
it  is  difficult  to  say  — perhaps  spear  and  buckler.  But  it 
is  also  possible  that  the  figurine  was  used  as  an  ornament  or 
as  a handle,  and  was  fixed  by  the  outstretched  arms  to  some 
larger  object.  At  the  end  of  the  spinal  column  there  is  a 
slight  protuberance,  of  the  meaning  of  which  I am  not  quite 
certain,  unless  it  be  meant  to  represent  the  tail  of  the  lower 
animal  part  of  the  body. 

Many  statuettes  of  the  animal  representation  of  Pan  from 
the  Roman  period  of  classic  art  have  come  down  to  us ; 
but  among  the  many  I have  been  unable  to  find  any  model 
that  coincides  exactly  with  this.  From  the  somewhat  primi- 
tive character  of  the  workmanship  I should  hardly  imagine 
that  it  was  either  purely  Greek  or  purely  Roman ; but  rather 
that  it  belongs  to  that  mixed  form  of  art  which  Syria  at  times 
produced  under  classical  influence.  There  seems  to  be  no 
mention  of  any  worship  of  Pan  at  Tyre.  But  in  Northern 
Palestine,  at  Banias  (Panias),  there  did  exist  a grotto  dedi- 
cated to  Pan ; and  Pan  is  pictured  on  the  imperial  coinage 
of  KaLadpeia  II awas.3  It  is  possible  that  the  figurine  is  an- 
other evidence  of  the  worship  of  Pan  in  Syrian  regions. 

1 The  literature  on  these  will  be  found  cited  in  Roscher,  Ausfuhrliches  Lexikon 
der  griechisehen  und  romiseken  Mythologie,  cols.  1417,  1418. 

2 Ibid.,  col.  13S9. 

3 Baudissin,  Studien  zur  semitischen  Religionsgeschichte,  2.  155;  Schiirer,  Ge- 
sckichte  des  jiidischen  Volkes,  2.  116  (2d  ed.) ; Roscher,  loc.  cit.,  col.  1371. 


B 


I ) 


RICHARD  JAMES  HORATIO  GOTTHEIL 


363 


(. b ) The  second  figurine,  made  of  a more  bluish  bronze, 
seems  to  lead  us  in  quite  a different  direction.  It  is  still 
attached  to  the  lower  mould  on  which  it  was  made.  The 
peculiar  high  head-covering  makes  me  at  once  suspect  Egyp- 
tian influence ; for  it  resembles  in  a remarkable  manner  the 
so-called  ‘white  crown’  worn  by  Egyptian  kings.4  The  only 
covering  on  the  body  is  a girdle  around  the  waist  and  what 
appears  to  be  a short  tunic  depending  from  it.  The  real 
position  of  the  hands  it  is  impossible  to  determine.  The  left 
one  is  raised ; the  right  has  been  broken  away ; but  the 
stump  seems  to  show  at  least  that  it  was  extended.  Down 
the  back  of  the  head-covering  and  the  neck  there  is  a rill 
which  is  probably  nothing  more  than  a foundry -mark. 

The  figurine  is  remarkably  similar  to  one  formerly  in  the 
collection  of  the  Musee  Napoleon  and  now  in  the  Louvre.  This 
last  was  found  by  M.  Peretie  at  Tortosa  on  the  Syrian  coast 
between  Tripoli  and  Ladikiyah.  It  has  been  reproduced  by 
Longperier 5 and  by  Perrot  and  Chipiez.6  Because  of  its  rude 
workmanship,  and  because  it  was  not  detached  from  the  sup- 
port upon  which  it  was  cast,  Perrot  believes  it  to  be  very 
ancient:  to  go  back,  as  he  expresses  it,  “aux  debuts  memes 
de  l’lndustrie  metallurgique.”  But,  though  the  general  char- 
acter of  the  figure  is  similar  to  the  copy  in  the  Louvre,  there 
are  some  differences.  The  head-gear  is  not  as  straight  as  it 
is  in  the  Louvre  figurine.  It  seems  to  bend  in  a little  and  to 
bulge  out  again  towards  the  top  into  a sort  of  bulb  or  knot. 
The  orbits  of  the  eyes  are  not  hollow;  the  tunic  is  in  one 
straight  piece  and  not  in  three  folds ; and  it  is  the  left  arm 
that  is  raised,  not  the  right.  Halfway  down  the  legs  of  the 
figurine  there  seems  to  have  been  a break  or  a fault  in  the 
casting. 

The  question  of  the  provenance  of  these  two  figurines 
has,  however,  been  singularly  complicated  by  the  discovery 
in  ancient  Mykenian  remains  of  statuettes  in  bronze  that 
bear  the  closest  resemblance  to  them.  The  first  was  found 
by  Schliemann  in  1876  at  Tiryns,  and  is  described  by  him  as 
that  of  an  “upright,  beardless  warrior  in  the  act  of  fighting.”  7 

4 See,  e.g.,  Erman,  Aegypten,  pp.  95,  364,  367,  383. 

6 Musee  Napoleon,  3.  214  and  plate  xxi.  6 Histoire  de  l’Art,  3.  405. 

7 Schliemann,  Tiryns,  N.  Y.  1885,  p.  116;  Mycenae,  p.  14,  figure  12. 


364 


FIGURINES  OF  SYRO-HITTITE  ART 


The  head  is  covered  with  a helmet  having  a very  high  cone- 
shaped  top.  The  rest  of  the  body  is  naked.  The  lance  held 
in  the  uplifted  right  hand,  as  well  as  the  shield  fastened  to 
the  left  is  missing.  Beneath  the  feet  are  two  vertical 
supports,  which  give  us  exactly  the  depth  of  the  double 
funnel  through  which  the  molten  metal  was  run  into  the 
mould.  According  to  Schliemann  the  artificers  did  not  yet 
know  the  use  of  the  file,  and  this,  he  says,  “points  to  a high 
antiquity.”  Other  statuettes,  alike  in  kind,  have  come  to 
light  at  Mykene  itself ; 8 and  a glance  at  their  reproduction 
is  enough  to  assure  us  of  their  similarity  to  the  one  in  my 
possession,  despite  minor  differences  such  as  in  the  pattern 
of  the  apron  or  breech  cloth. 

(c  and  d ).  The  first  two  of  the  figurines,  it  will  be  seen, 
bring  us  into  connection  with  early  classical  civilization ; the 
last  two,  however,  seem  to  be  the  product  of  local  artists, 
and  might  with  more  propriety  be  called  Syro-Hittite.  I 
have  been  unable  to  find  out  where  they  came  from,  as  they 
were  acquired  at  a public  sale.  But  c reminds  me  very 
forcibly  of  a similar  figurine  found  at  Killiz,  between  Aleppo 
and  Aintab,  a few  years  ago,  and  published  by  Garstang 
in  the  Annals  of  Archaeology  and  Anthropology  issued  by 
the  Institute  of  Archaeology  at  Liverpool  (Vol.  I),9  and  re- 
published in  his  “Monuments  of  the  Hittites.”  10  During 
his  travels  in  Cappadocia,  Chantre  was  able  to  acquire  a 
number  of  such  figurines,  reproductions  of  which  can  be 
found  in  his  work,  Mission  en  Cappadoce.11 

(d)  The  fourth  statuette  reminds  me  at  once  of  number 
2 ; but  its  make  is  still  more  primitive.  It  has,  however, 
the  same  distinctive  head-dress  and  the  large  ears  which 
are  characteristic  of  most  of  these  representations.  That 
the  head-dress  is  also  characteristic  may  be  seen  by  compar- 

8 Cf.  Chrestos  Tsountas,  The  Mycenaean  Age,  Boston,  1897,  p.  161 ; von  Lich- 
tenberg,  Einfluss  der  agaiscken  Kultur  auf  A gyp  ten  und  Palastina,  in  Mittlieilungen 
der  Vorderasiatischen  Gesellschaft,  Leipzig,  1911,  p.  39.  9 Plate  xiv. 

10  P.  106.  Cf.  J.  Menant,  Quelques  Figurines  Heteennes  en  Bronze,  in  Revue 
Areheologique,  26.  31  (1895).  I have  not  been  able  to  consult  Peiser  and  Bezzen- 
berger’s  article.  Die  bronze  Figur  von  Schernen,  in  the  Sitzungsberichte  der  Alter- 
thumsgesellschaft  Prussia,  Heft  22,  referred  to  by  Garstang.  In  the  same  category 
the  little  bronze  group  must  be  placed  which  was  found  in  1892  at  Nerab  near 
Aleppo ; see  Clermont-Ganneau,  Etudes  d’archeologie  Orientale,  2.  186. 

11  1898,  p.  145. 


RICHARD  JAMES  HORATIO  GOTTHEIL 


365 


ing  it  with  the  head-dress  of  some  of  the  warriors  and  gods 
to  be  found  in  known  Hittite  remains. 

In  at  least  three  of  the  figurines  we  seem  to  have  represen- 
tation of  an  art  about  which  as  yet  we  know  very  little. 
This  art  is,  it  is  true,  extremely  primitive.  The  conception 
is  raw  and  the  execution  most  inferior.  The  artist  is  evi- 
dently struggling  both  with  his  material  and  with  his  art, 
and  he  must  have  lived  entirely  out  of  touch  with  the  three 
superior  civilizations  around  him  — or  at  a time  prior  to 
the  introduction  of  their  influence  into  these  parts  of  Asia. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


This  Bibliography  has  been  prepared  by  Mr.  Harry  Wolfson  of  New 
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On  the  Nominal  Basis  of  the  Hebrew  Verb.  Trans.  Amer. 

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1878 

The  Yoruban  Language.  Trans.  Amer.  Phil.  Assoc’n,  9. 
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Amer.  Phil.  Assoc’n,  12.  26-51  (Proceedings,  12.  6). 

On  the  Babylonian  Element  in  Ezekiel.  Journal  of  the 
Society  of  Biblical  Literature  and  Exegesis,  1.  59-66. 


1882 


The  Llistory  of  the  Religion  of  Israel : an  Old  Testament 
Primer.  Pp.  xvii  + 150.  Boston,  1882 ; 2d  ed., 
1883  ; 3d  ed.,  1884  ; and  several  later  editions. 

The  Semitic  Personal  Pronouns.  Proc.  Amer.  Phil. 
Assoc’n,  13.  x-xii. 

1883 


Recent  Progress  among  the  Baptists. 
62.  292. 


1884 


Christian  Register, 


Quotations  in  the  Old  Testament.  Pp.  xliv  + 321.  New 
York. 

The  Date  of  the  Korah  Psalms.  Journal  Soc.  Bib.  Lit. 
and  Ex.,  4.  80-92. 

1885 

On  Noun-Inflections  in  the  Sabean.  Journal  Amer.  Or. 
Soc.,  11.  xxix-xxxi,  1885  (Proceedings  for  May,  1880). 


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369 


Remarks  on  Guyard’s  Theory  of  Semitic  Internal  Plurals. 
Journal  Amer.  Or.  Soc.,  11.  lix-lx,  1885  (Proceedings 
for  May,  1881). 

Notice  of  F.  Delitzsch’s  Views  as  to  the  Alleged  Site  of  Eden. 
Journal  Amer.  Or.  Soc.,  11.  lxxii-lxxiii,  1885  (Proceedings 
for  October,  1881). 

On  the  Kushites.  Journal  Amer.  Or.  Soc.,  11.  cviii-cix, 
1885  (Proceedings  for  May,  1882). 

The  Masoretic  Vowel  System.  Hebraica,  1.  137-144. 

The  Revised  Old  Testament.  Christian  Register,  64. 

468,  500,  516-517,  549-550  (1885). 

The  Date  of  Deuteronomy.  Unitarian  Review,  23.  97- 
118. 

The  New  Philology.  Science,  6.  366-368. 

1886 

On  the  Asaph  Psalms.  Journal  Soc.  Bib.  Lit.  and  Ex., 
6.  73-85. 

The  Present  Position  of  Pentateuch  Criticism.  Unitarian 
Review,  25.  47-68. 

On  Maccabean  Psalms.  Ibid.,  26.  1-21. 

A New  English  Dictionary.  (Review  of  the  Dictionary  of 
the  Philological  Society.)  Science,  7.  557-558. 

The  Older  Arabic  Poetry.  Harvard  Monthly,  1.  135-148. 

1887 

Kuenen’s  Critical  Work.  Christian  Register,  66.  117. 

Rise  of  Hebrew  Psalm-Writing.  Journal  Soc.  Bib.  Lit. 
and  Ex.,  7.  47-60. 

Modern  Biblical  Criticism.  Unitarian  Review,  28.  354- 
359  (also  printed  as  a separate  tract). 

1888 

The  New  Testament  as  Interpreter  of  the  Old  Testament. 
Old  Testament  Student,  8.  124-133. 

1889 

The  Thousand  and  One  Nights.  Atlantic  Monthly,  63. 
756-763. 


370 


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The  Lokman  Legend.  Journal  Amer.  Or.  Soc.,  13. 
clxxii-clxxvii  (Proceedings  for  May,  1887). 

1890 

Evil  Spirits  in  the  Bible.  Journal  of  Biblical  Literature, 
9.  17-30. 

On  Some  Phonetic  Peculiarities  of  Cairo  Arabic.  Journal 
Amer.  Or.  Soc.,  14.  cxii-cxiv  (Proceedings  for  October, 
1888). 

Judaism  and  Christianity ; a Sketch  of  the  Progress  of 
Thought  from  Old  Testament  to  New  Testament. 
Pp.  xvii  + 456.  Boston,  1890. 

Ethics  and  Religion.  Popular  Science  Monthly,  36. 
727-744. 

“ That  it  might  be  Fulfilled.”  The  Unitarian,  June,  1890 
(5.  284-285). 

1891 

Analysis  of  Genesis  ii.,  iii.  Journal  Bib.  Lit.,  10.  1-19. 
Relation  of  Jesus  to  Christianity.  Christian  Register,  70. 
168-169. 

The  Study  of  the  Bible.  Ibid.,  70.  748-749. 

The  Religious  Element  in  Ethical  Codes.  International 
Journal  of  Ethics,  1.  289-311. 

1892 

Kuenen’s  Life  and  Work.  Christian  Register,  71.  40. 

Dr.  C.  A.  Briggs.  Ibid.,  71.  728-729. 

Abraham  Kuenen.  The  New  World,  1.  64-88. 

1893 

Myths  and  Legends  as  Vehicles  of  Religious  Teaching. 

Christian  Register,  72.  404-405. 

Israel  in  Egypt.  The  New  World,  2.  121-141. 

The  Parliament  of  Religions.  Ibid.,  2.  728-741. 

1894 

W.  Robertson  Smith.  Christian  Register,  73  . 266. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


371 


1896 

The  Pre-Prophetic  Religion  of  Israel.  The  New  World, 
5.  123-142. 

Text-Critical  Notes  on  Ezekiel.  Journal  Bib.  Lit.,  15.  54-58. 

Biblical  Criticism.  Christian  Register,  75.  264-265. 

1897 

The  Meaning  of  HDS.  Journal  Bib.  Lit.,  16.  178-179. 

Accadian-Babylonian  and  Assyrian  Literature.  Library 
of  the  World’s  Best  Literature,  1.  51-83. 

The  Old  Testament  and  the  Jewish  Apocrypha.  Ibid.,  27. 
10775-10818. 

1898 

Esther  as  Babylonian  Goddess.  The  New  World,  7. 
130-144. 

1899 

Messianic  Predictions.  Christian  Register,  78.  723. 

Messianic  Passages.  Ibid.,  78.  750. 

The  King  in  Jewish  Post-Exilian  Writings.  Journal  Bib. 
Lit.,  18.  156-166. 

The  Earliest  Form  of  the  Sabbath.  Ibid.,  18.  190-194. 

The  Book  of  the  Prophet  Ezekiel.  Critical  Edition  of  the 
Hebrew  Text,  with  Notes  (Polychrome  Edition).  Leip- 
zig, 1899.  Pp.  iv  + 116.  (Part  12  of  The  Sacred  Books 
of  the  Old  Testament.) 

The  Book  of  the  Prophet  Ezekiel.  A New  English  Trans- 
lation, with  Explanatory  Notes  (Polychrome  Edition). 
New  York,  1899.  Pp.  viii  + 208.  (The  Sacred  Books 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.) 

A Critical  and  Exegetical  Commentary  on  the  Book  of  Prov- 
erbs. New  York  and  Edinburgh,  1899.  Pp.  xxxvi  + 
554.  (The  International  Critical  Commentary.) 

Taboo  and  Morality.  Journal  Amer.  Or.  Soc.,  20.  151-156. 

The  Relation  between  Magic  and  Religion.  Ibid.,  20.  327- 
331. 

1900 

Pope  Leo  XIII.  (The  Dudleian  Lecture  for  1899.)  Chris- 
tian Register,  79.  65-69. 

Charles  Carroll  Everett.  The  New  World,  9.  714-724. 


372 


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1901 

Ecclesiasticus.  Encyclopaedia  Biblica,  2.  columns  1164- 
1179. 

Ezekiel.  Ibid.,  2.  columns  1456-1472. 

1902 

Creator  Gods.  Journal  Amer.  Or.  Soc.,  23.  29-37. 
Remarks  on  the  Hebrew  Text  of  Ben-Sira.  Ibid.,  23.  38- 
43. 

Proverbs.  Encyc.  Bib.,  3.  columns  3906-3919. 

1903 

Sirach.  Encyc.  Bib.,  4.  columns  4645-4651. 

Wisdom  Literature.  Ibid.,  4.  columns  5322-5336. 

Book  of  Wisdom.  Ibid.,  4.  columns  5336-5349. 

1904 

Recent  Discussions  of  Totemism.  Journal  Amer.  Or. 
Soc.,  25.  146-161. 

1905 

An  Early  Form  of  Animal  Sacrifice.  Journal  Amer.  Or. 
Soc.,  26.  137-144. 

Mexican  Human  Sacrifice.  Journal  of  American  Folk- 
Lore,  18.  173-181. 

The  Triumph  of  Yahwism.  Journal  Bib.  Lit.,  24.  91-106. 

1906 

The  Semitic  Conception  of  Absolute  Law.  Orientalische 
Studien  ....  Theodor  Noeldeke  gewidmet,  pp.  797- 
804. 

Ethical  Influence  in  University  Life.  International  Jour- 
nal of  Ethics,  16.  145-157. 

1907 

The  Queen  of  Sheba.  Journal  Amer.  Folk-Lore,  20.  207- 

212. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


373 


1908 

On  Some  Conceptions  of  the  Old  Testament  Psalter.  Old 
Testament  and  Semitic  Studies  in  Memory  of  William 
Rainey  Harper,  1.  1-34. 

Survey  of  Recent  Literature  of  the  Old  Testament.  Har- 
vard Theological  Review,  1.  377-381. 

1909 

Dusares.  Anthropological  Essays  presented  to  Frederic 

Ward  Putnam.  Pp.  584-600. 

1910 

The  Higher  Criticism.  Christian  Register,  89.  455-457. 

Pan-Baby  lonianism.  Harvard  Theological  Review,  3. 

47-84. 

Ecclesiastes.  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  8.  849-853. 

Ezekiel.  Ibid.,  10.  102-104. 

Job  (in  part).  Ibid.,  15.  422-427. 

Book  of  Proverbs.  Ibid.,  22.  506-510. 

Book  of  Wisdom.  Ibid.,  28.  749-750. 

Wisdom  Literature.  Ibid.,  28.  750-751. 

1912 

The  Islam  of  the  Koran.  Harvard  Theological  Review, 
5.  474-514. 


